Templar Competition
by misguided-intention
Summary: What if Haytham never met Ziio? What if Amelia, lowly errand girl to a Templar captain, gets in Haytham's way? What if she turns out to be his key to discovering the Apple of Eden? Haytham will do whatever it takes to get his way.
1. Chapter 1

"Bloody hell!" Amelia's shrill voice echoed off the cave walls. It was gone! The Apple was missing. She fingered the empty hole that it previously occupied, as if she could will it to come back. She turned fervently on her heel and motioned for the men accompanying her to follow.

The brittish troops followed obediently, loaded muskets at the ready, "I've come all this way for a hole in the wall!" She shrieked angrily, talking to no one in particular. She tore off her silk gloves and tossed them back, not looking over her shoulder. The heavier set of the two guards fumbled to catch them before they hit the forest floor. Frowning, she unpinned her curls and the golden tresses fell from their extravagant updo over her shoulders.

Amelia had been sent to explore the cave by her captain. His strict orders was that she come back with the Apple of Eden or not at all, "Now what the bullocks am I supposed to do now?" She slumped down on the nearest rock and pulled the hem of her gown up so it wouldn't touch the ground, "Can anyone tell me why I'm wearing an evening gown?" She glared up at the meaty guard with beady eyes and stoop upright abruptly, "Can you?" She prodded him in the chest with a manicured nail. He stuttered and looked away.

"I-I don't know m-miss." She grabbed his collar and shook him.

"It's because my asshole of a Captain decided to interrupt the date I was enjoying in order to find this stupid apple!" She let go of him and sat back down on the rock again, defeated, and rubbed her temples, "Sorry. I'm just so angry."

The guard nodded his understanding. She groaned and looked up at them, glancing at the one she hadn't spoke too, the thinner man, and smiled sheepishly, "Don't suppose you could take a girl out for dinner and a drink before she gets her head lopped off?" She held out her hand gracefully and the guard took it, bringing her to her feet.

The crunch of footsteps and another voice interrupted them, "Don't suppose you could tell me what you're doing here?" The man who spoke stepped forward, cape billowing behind him in the slight breeze. His posture marked him as a higher rank, hands behind his back, nose in the air, as if expecting them to kneel and pledge their loyalty.

His graying hair was tied back with a red ribbon and it fluttered softly behind him. His hat was triangular in shape, his boots were a dull brown, scuffed with wear, and his grin suggested he was full of himself.

The exact type of man Amelia hated.

"I was just on my way out." Amelia threw her nose in the air as well, trying to appear dignified and regal.

"That explains where you're going, but my question was, what were you doing in that cave?" He pointed behind her and enunciated as if he were talking to someone ill in the head.

"Actually," Amelia stepped forward, a challenge in her emerald gaze, "That wasn't what you asked at all."

The man chuckled and looked at the man nearest him, "Hear that, Charles? Looks like we've got ourselves a smartass." The man designated as Charles grinned in response. His eyes were a bright blue, his hair was oily and slicked back, tied with a leather thong. He must be second in command, Amelia thought to herself. The guards that had accompanied her drew back a few more paces.

"What do you think we outta do, Haytham?" Charles glanced at his commander.

Realization dawned on her. The leader of the Templars. Grandmaster Haytham. Here she was, smarting off to the man who could have her killed in an instant. She refused to bow down, however, despite him being the top of the food chain.

"It's nothing to concern ourselves with, Charles. Let's find what we came for and be quick about it." Haytham and Charles ventured forth, pushing Amelia out of the way as they did so. Another man lumbered behind them, undoubtedly drunk.

Before Haytham got a few inches past her, he flicked his wrist, extending his hidden blade. He lay the sharp tip at the base of her throat and dragged it down with barely enough pressure to leave more than a red welt. The blade rested between her cleavage, "If you want to live, keep that sharp tongue of yours in your mouth where it belongs."

He withdrew his hand, though it lingered a second too long, and the three men plundered farther into the forest, out of sight. She decided not to warn them that what they're looking for would be gone when they got there. They'd be after the apple as well, she knew.

Amelia groaned and snapped her fingers, "Come along, boys. Hopefully my dinner won't be too cold. It'll be the last thing I enjoy." Amelia and the frightened guards made their way out of the forest.

* * *

Haytham gritted his teeth and cursed the blonde beauty. She neglected to warn him that the apple would be gone. He sighed heavily and motioned for his men to fall in behind him. They hurried to catch up with him as they exited the cave, "What now, sir?" Charles, always eager to please, trotted beside him failthfully.

"Nothing. The apple is clearly gone. We look elsewhere." Haytham quickened his pace. Charles and Thomas tried to match his strides.

"But sir, it could be anywhere." Charles was looking at Haytham like he'd gone mad.

"That woman was probably a lower rank than a captain. She's taking orders from someone who has a good idea about the general direction of the apple."

Charles had a nasty grin on his face, "Sir, are you suggesting..." Charles trailed off and Haytham nodded.

"I think a deception is in order to obtain what we desire."


	2. Chapter 2

Amelia sat rigid in her chair, messing with the hem of her gown, staring down at her lap. She suddenly heard footsteps and her head snapped up. Her captain, a burly man in his late thirties entered the dining hall of the tavern wearing his longjohns, no doubt awoken from his slumber to hear her report. She stood abruptly, knocking her chair over behind her ungracefully. She winced and her captain took the seat across from her. He motioned for her to sit and she picked up her chair before doing so, "I take it you were unsuccessful?" She gulped and nodded ruefully, fearing the worst.

He leaned forward and scratched at the scruff on his chin, "Well, guess we'd better look somewhere else." He said casually, leaning back in his chair and glancing around for a waitress, "Can I get a damned beer?" He shouted at whoever would listen.

"That's it? You're not going to hang me? Pull off my fingernails? Skin me alive?" She was irritated that he led her to believe she'd be punished severely for failure.

He leaned forward again and reached across the table to cup her face in his large hand, "You're too pretty to get rid of." He trailed the index finger of his other hand down the side of her neck, "Why do you think I keep you around?"

Amelia, furious, leapt up and pointed a finger at him accusingly, "You only keep me because I'm your play thing?" He got up and knocked the table over. She turned, intending to leave, but he stopped her short, snaking an arm around her waist.

"Where do you think you're going?" His breath was hot in her ear and tickled her cheek. It smelled foul. She squirmed, but his grip was firm. His free hand ran up her abdomen and cupped her breast.

"Filthy pig." She seethed, elbowing him in the ribs. This didn't hinder him, but he let her go anyway, finished toying with her. Angry, she stormed out, shoving the wooden door open and nearly hitting someone in the process.

"Watch it!" The man bellowed.

She peeked over the edge of the door to apologize when she saw it was Haytham. She slammed the door and crossed her arms over her chest, "My apologies." She said sarcastically.

Haytham nodded to her, "I didn't catch your name."

She rolled her eyes and sneered, "Why do you care?"

He shrugged, "Curious is all."

She dropped her defensive posture and said, "Amelia Kates."

He bowed and responded, "Haytham Kenway."

She wrinkled her nose as if she were smelling something putrid, "I'm aware."

Hayatham, eyebrows raised, was amused, "Really, now?" He stepped closer until she was within arm's reach.

She nodded, standing her ground, "Leader of the Templars. You're a hard person to forget, so I've heard."

He chuckled and swept his arm forward, gesturing for her to join him, "Mind accompanying me to my cozy little room at the inn?" He didn't expect her to bite and was rewarded with a malicious glare. Just as he'd thought. He'd have to earn her trust. He was willing to do so.

Amelia strode past him defiantly, towards the cobblestone streets of Boston, "I'll be staying at my own room, thank you."

Haytham, bemused, nodded, "Suit yourself." He turned and entered the tavern. Amelia could hear the bustle of drunk men and the greetings called out to Haytham as he entered.

She headed toward the small abandoned shack she was staying at south of Boston. She walked down a narrow dark alleyway and noticed a lone guard resting against a brick wall, his horse tied to a post. She stuck to the shadows and crept closer. The horse snorted and she froze. The guard was snoring softly. She breathed out slowly and started forward again. The moonlight shone on her like a giant spotlight. She felt as though she'd be discovered any minute.

Nothing happened.

She unsheated the daggar she kept in the garter belt on her left thigh, holding up her stockings. The man stirred and she froze. He smacked his lips together and slowly opened his eyes.

_Shit, no time for stealth._

The guard, eyes wide at the sudden mysterious appearance of the woman, opened his mouth to sound an alarm but was quickly silenced. Amelia shoved the pointed end of her daggar just under the man's ribcage. He gasped, grabbed his side, and fell over with a soft thud.

She smirked, wiped the blade clean on the dead man's sleeve and scolded him, "Should've worn your armor." She skipped merrily over to the white mare who nickered a greeting, "Well aren't you friendly?" She rubbed the horse's nose before straddling her saddle.

She grabbed the reins and urged the mare forward, towards her temporary residence.

Amelia climbed off the horse, tethered it to a nearby fence post, and climbed up the steps of her shabby little home, pulling off her boots as she walked through the door.

The fire had gone out since she last was there so she put in a few more logs, lit a match and tossed it in. She wandered into the bathroom to disrobe, leaving only her corset and stockings on.

Her bedroom was chilly so she left the door open so the heat from the fire could wander into her room.

She crawled into bed and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Haytham was distracted. His comrades were laughing and joking about while his mind strayed to Amelia. He wondered how he would locate the apple when suddenly something came to him, "Charles!"

The man turned, still laughing at something Thomas Hickey had said, "Sir?"

Haytham leaned forward, lowering his tone so that only Charles could hear, "Ask around and see if you can find Amelia's captain. We're going to have a little chat with him."

* * *

"Argh!" The man was still clad in his longjohns, intending to go to bed when he was ambushed and tied up. A man dressed in fancy attire and a tricorne hat stepped into his room, the two men who'd captured him trailing in behind him, shutting the door.

The captain recognized him instantly as the leader of the New Colonial Templars, "Grandmaster?"

Haytham ignored him and spoke in a demanding tone, "Where is the map?"

The man looked from Haytham to Charles to Hickey, unsure of what to say, "What map?"

Haytham pulled up a chair and sat in front of him, "The map to the apple."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." The man refused to budge.

Haytham resisted the urge to slap him, "What is your name?"

"Why?" He was beginning to grow fearful.

"So that I can have you beheaded for obstruction of Templar order."

The man gulped, "Look, I know what you're talking about but I don't have it, I work for someone else."

Haytham raged, "Then who?!"

The man shrunk back, "Amelia's father."

Haytham was glad he was cooperating, "And who might that be?"

The captain spoke solemnly, afraid for his life now that he was found out, "Achillies Davenport."

* * *

**Author's note: I know some things don't make sense in this chapter like why the Templar captain is working with Achillies but it'll be explained in the next chapter, I promise~**


	3. Chapter 3

Haytham stared at the man, astonished, "Davenport? That washed up, retired Assassin?"

The Templar captain nodded, "Few years ago he hired me to look after his daughter, paid me a large sum, said he wanted to be sure she was safe. So I hired her. I needed the money. He never disclosed the actual location of the apple to me but I got a good look at the map in his office. But..." He trailed off.

Haytham was getting impatient, "But what?!"

The man continued, "It looked like it was coded. The places he had circled were in different colors so I picked a random location and sent Amelia to see if it was the right place but it wasn't."

Haytham spent a moment thinking, "What colors were the cirlces?"

The man looked confused, "Uh some were red and I think one or two were blue."

Haytham nodded, "Then you must have picked a red circle, correct?"

The man nodded and Haytham continued, "So that must mean that one of the blue circles leads to the apple!"

* * *

_"But dad, this is what I want!" Eighteen year old Amelia stamped her foot defiantly to emphasize her words._

_Achillies shook his head, "But you were born to be an Assassin!" He was trying and failing to convince her of this._

_Amelia shook her head, "Mother was a Templar so it's fate for me to join the Order."_

_Achillies looked devastated. He sighed and seemed to look ten years older in the matter of seconds, "If that's what you truly wish. Just be careful." He turned his back on her and left her to her own devices._

* * *

Present day Amelia sat upright in bed at the sound of a knock on her door. She stood up groggily and padded over to the door. She yanked it open and stopped short. Haytham stood on her doorstep. He glanced down at her attire and she remembered she was half naked.

She hid behind her door and peeked her head around the corner, "What is it?"

She was blushing, Haytham noted rather amused, "I've come to ask if you want to accompany me on a trip."

Amelia quirked a brow, "What kind of trip."

Haytham smiled coyly, "I don't suppose you've ever been on an actual mission?"

Suddenly intrigued she forgot about her state of dress and stepped in front of the door, inching closer to Haytham, "No, I haven't."

Haytham could smell her perfume and he rather enjoyed the close proximity, "How about an assassination mission, then?"

She folded her arms across her chest, pushing up her breasts as she did so, unknowingly giving the man a better view, "I thought only Assassins did that, hence the name?"

Haytham shook his head, "It's not something only limited to them."

She turned and headed back inside, "Let me get dressed. You can come in if you'd like."

"No thanks, I'm going to fetch the horses."

* * *

Arriving at New York, Haytham dismounted and moved to help Amelia off her steed but she'd already hopped off and was moving along the path, looking at him impatiently, "Are you coming?"

He hurried to catch up with her, "You don't even know where you're going."

She smirked, "That's what I've got you for." She giggled and Haytham decided he rather liked her childish behavior. It made him feel young again.

Amelia followed Haytham into town. He pulled her behind a delapidated building and pointed straight ahead, "That's our target."

There was a group of soldiers mingling in the deserted streets. Amelia squinted, "I don't see anything."

Haytham pointed again and she followed his finger to realize he'd been pointing at the roof above the guards. Standing on the shingles was a man clad in robes, his face shrouded in the darkness created by the cowl of his hood.

Amelia nodded and tried to race forward but Haytham caught her by the collar of her silk embroidered gown, "Not so fast." He whispered. She frowned and he pointed at the building behind them.

He jumped and caught the ledge of the nearest window sill. He then proceeded to latch on to anything that would help pull him up. He grabbed the edge of the roof and hoisted himself up and onto the shingles.

Amelia got a running start and jumped up, grabbing onto a loose brick a few meters above the window. Careful not to pull it out, she manuvered around it and jumped up, grabbing hold of the rain gutters connecting to the house before she fell to the ground.

The rusted metal groaned in protest. The screws holding it in place started coming loose. Amelia, wide eyed and resisting the urge to scream, scrambled to grab the roof. Her fingers slipped and she started falling backwards. Haytham grabbed her outstretched hand and she dangled in mid air. The gutter fell to the ground and the screeching sound it made echoed loudly in the cool night air.

The guards glanced in that direction and Haytham's target decided to seize the opportunity they created. The hooded figure jumped off his perch and landed on top of two of the guards, his hidden blade extended to end both man's lives.

Amelia glanced behind her to see their target had engaged the group of guards. Amelia glanced up at Haytham, "Go, you'll miss your chance. Just drop me, I'll be fine."

Haytham ignored her and hauled her up. When she was close enough, she swung her leg up onto the roof. Haytham finished pulling her up and once she rolled over onto her back and he was sure she wouldn't fall off, he ran and jumped onto the roof of the next building. Amelia stood up, dusted herself off and admired his grace and agility.

She watched as he jumped onto his target the exact same way he had done to the guards. Without hesitation, without giving the man a chance to recover, Haytham drove the point of his sword into the man's vulnerable back.

He then glanced at Amelia and waved her over. She couldn't resist the huge grin that spread over her face, lighting up her otherwise sharp features.

When she sauntered over Haytham was busy conversing with the remaining guards. She waited in the shadows until he was finished.

A short while later he strode over to her and she stepped out into the light. Haytham noticed that her dress was ripped up the left side, revealing the smooth porcelain skin of her leg. She cleared her throat and Haytham noticed he'd been staring. He looked at her with the smallest trace of a smirk on his lips, "Right, well then, shall we?"

She hooked her arm through his and looked up at him, "Where are we going?"

He smiled and simply said, "We're attending a ball tonight."

Amelia gaped and sputtered, "W-what?"


	4. Chapter 4

Haytham strolled into the nearest boutique, "You heard me. We're attending a dance."

"B-but..." Amelia started but was unable to finish as she was shoved into the nearest dressing room. Haytham looked through the racks of dresses and found a gown he saw fitting.

He draped it over the swinging wooden door and ordered, "Put this on."

Amelia frowned but did as she was told, slipping out of her gown, the green silk pooling at her feet. She tossed it aside and made sure her corset was tight enough before pulling the dress she'd been given over her head. She glanced in the mirror and gasped. It was elegant, yet simple. It had fancy lace roses decorating the front and the sleeves reached her wrists, ending in frilly puffs. The red bodice hugged her figure nicely and she could breathe, that was a plus. She adored it. She pinned her hair up and looked in the mirror for one last once over, making sure she fit the part.

When she emerged Haytham had cleaned himself up. He wasn't wearing the cape, tricorne hat, brown trousers and navy-blue trench coat. His hair was still tied back but he wore white trousers, a simple white shirt tucked professionally into his waistband and black boots that shone from a recent polishing. She noticed that his hair was only gray at his temples.

She couldn't resist asking, "How old are you?"

"Nearly thirty." He responded adjusting his cuffs. He flicked his wrist like he'd done the first day they'd met and his blade responded immediatley.

"For some reason I see you as nearly forty." She smirked.

He looked offended and scoffed, "It's the stress." His tone suggested that she drop the matter, and she did. Though she still couldn't stifle her giggles. He tossed a small bag of coins on the counter to pay for her dress. He held out his arm and she took it, "Where is this ball?"

He directed her out of the parlor and onto the dirty streets of New York, "I was informed of a man who looked suspiciously like the one I'd just killed back there. Another assassin, no doubt. The dance is being held at a nearby fort."

She looked at him curiously, "A fort? But why?"

He looked down at her, an amused expression on his face, "I'm as curious as you are. Apparently it was unplanned, just a spur of the moment kind of thing."

"And it's formal?"

"Obviously." He stated, as if she were daft.

She stayed quiet the rest of the way. Once they got there, the guards halted them. Haytham nodded at them, "Kenway." He expected to gain access immediatley simply because of his name. The guards glanced at eachother, shit eating grins on their faces. The older of the two spoke up.

"That s'posed to mean somethin'?" The other guard laughed as if that was the most humurous thing in the world.

Amelia decided to intervene. She hiked up her dress and pressed herself firmly against the one who spoke. If the man looked down, he'd have a full view of what was hidden behind her corset, "Won't you please let us in?" She batted her lashes and could see tiny beads of sweat forming on his face.

He sputtered could see he was folding, "Well, I, uh, you see... Nobody can get in without an invite..."

She grinned wickedly. She was good, Haytham thought to himself, "Just for me? Please?" She grabbed his face and pressed her lips softly to his, biting onto the man's lower lip playfully. The guard finally relented and allowed them passage. Once out of earshot Haytham patted her on the back.

"Well done." Though he would have preferred and rather enjoyed being on the receiving end of those pearly whites and glossy pink lips instead of that guard.

She frowned and wrinkled her nose in disgust, "That was horrid."

"You did wonderfully." He chuckled. Amelia feigned disinterest, rolling her eyes and looking away to hide the ear splitting grin on her face. She swelled with pride over his praise, reveling in the satisfaction she felt.

Something suddenly occured to her.

_Are his complements getting to me? Am I seriously happy that I'm with him right now? I'm insane_, she concluded. Haytham elbowed her, tearing her away from her thoughts.

"There's our guy."

"Where?" She glanced around anxiously.

Haytham leaned down to whisper in her ear, his breath tickling her exposed neck. She shivered slightly and Haytham noticed this, smiling to himself, "Over by the food."

She glanced at the long table decorated with a simple white cloth. It was adorned with a big ham smack dab in the middle. Assorted trays of snacks were scattered all around the main course for people to nibble on. There were also a set amount of glassed filled with red wine set in a neat row farther away from the food. Next to the wine stood a man wearing the same gray hooded robes the other man had worn. Assassin robes.

This man had his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. He calmly strode towards a person dressed in what was undoubtedly royal garments. He appeared to be slightly higher in rank next to these guards. Perhaps a captain or a leiutenant.

The assassin unsheathed the sword from its scabbard and continued forward, unnoticed. Amelia didn't doubt that the majority of these guards had been paid to look the other way. Haytham tugged her forward and they went after the assassin.

As they drew nearer more people crowded around them, eager to get a slice of the ham that was being butchered and distributed by one of the guards. People bumped into them and Amelia was beginning to feel boxed in, claustrophobia setting in.

One man ran right between them, separating Amelia from Haytham. Haytham ignored it and continued striding forward to end the life of his target. Amelia decided it wasn't best to call out to him and blow his cover but she couldn't just stand there and let the hungry attendees fling her around like a ragdoll. She pushed through them, elbowing her way past.

She broke free of the crowd, only to get shoved again. A man standing behind her growled and pushed her down. She lost her balance and fell forward, dirtying her new dress and scraping the heels of her hands. The heel of her shoe caught on the lacy hem and tore it. She grimaced and sat there for a moment, embarassed.

She was aware of someone approaching her and grabbing her by the elbow. She looked up at the face of the person who bothered to pick her up. Haytham gave her a genuine look of apology and helped her over to a nearby bench.

"Are you alright?" Haytham still kept a firm grip on her arm and sat down next to her.

She couldn't seem to process why falling down embarassed and disgraced her so much. It could happen to anyone. A distant repressed memory seemed to flicker in the back of her mind.

* * *

_Thirteen year old Amelia skipped through the streets merrily, on her way to school. Her lunch pail was tucked neatly under her arm, fearful that she might spill its contents._

_A boy she remembered seeing in the grade above her stepped in her path. She slowed down, tried to go around him. He reached out and shoved her to the ground. _

_Her lunch skittered to the ground, her apple, sandwhich and juicebox soiled by the dirt. The boy grinned evilly and dragged her through a dark alleyway. She wondered why her insistent screams didn't attract any attention. The streets were bustling with life, everyone hurrying to get to work or school._

_Nobody bothered to help her._

_The boy had a few friends following behind him. One of them called out, "Let's leave her, Theo."_

_Theo spun on him, "Shut up. You're more than welcome to go home if you'd like."_

_But the boy stood his ground._

_Theo turned back to Amelia and cocked his fist. Amelia put her hands up defensively, cowering away, "What have I done?" She whimpered._

_Theo leaned down close, glared at her, and brought up his hand, striking her across the cheek, "You're mother's a whore."_

_She stared at him dumbfoundedly, "W-what? I don't believe you." _

_He struck her again. She cupped her cheek, tears stinging her eyes, "Your mother bedded with my father. He's married!" He shouted in her face._

_"Impossible." Tears rolled freely down her cheek and Theo cocked his fist again and brought it down heavily on the bridge of her nose. There wasn't enough force behind the blow to break it but blood spurted from her nostrils. _

_He hit her again, this time giving her a black eye._

_Satisfied she'd been punished, Theo turned and ran off with his friends._

_She just laid there for a short time after that. Slowly, wincing in pain, she got up. Her behind was bruised and she knew her cheek would be swollen in the morning. She didn't bother going to school and instead trudged home. _

_Achillies saw her battered condition and ran to her. He kneeled in front of her, gripping her shoulders, "What's happened?" Concern filled his eyes and he was shaking with anger at the monster who'd done this to her._

_She didn't say a word, only leaned down and wrapped her arms around him, "I'm fine." She whispered._

* * *

Twenty-six year old Amelia snapped out of her reverie. This was what made her so embarassed. Being shoved around like she were nothing more than a pathetic insect. She realized Haytham was talking to her.

"Amelia? Did you hear me?"

She looked at him, a blank expression on her face, "Hm?"

He repeated himself, "I said, are you feeling alright?"

She nodded. He pulled her up and herded her towards the exit. She suddenly remembered why they'd come, "Did you catch him?"

Haytham glanced at her sidelong and said, "He's as good as dead."

Haytham rented them a room at a nearby inn. Amelia excused herself and locked the bathroom door behind her. She removed the red dress and hung it above the tub, intending to leave it there. It was ruined and she'd never wear it again. She took off her stockings and had a little trouble with her corset.

She opened the door a crack and called out, "Haytham! A little help?"

His boots resonated off the stone walls loudly. When he emerged his hair hung down over his shoudlers, the buttons on his shirt were askew, his shirttail was untucked and he was barefoot. She also noted his trousers were unbuttoned and hanging open slightly. She supressed a giggle and turned around, "I need help untying this wretched thing."

His expert fingers began unlacing the strings as if he'd done it a thousand times and she doubted he hadn't, "If you women detest these things then why do you insist on wearing them?"

When he pulled the last string free, I let the corset fall free and I turned to face him, "Pain is the price for beauty." His eyes widened at the brief flash of my breasts before I quickly closed the door.

Once I finished bathing, I wrapped myself in one of the robes kept in a cabinet above the toilet. Every inn I'd ever been to had one. Haytham was sitting on the foot of the bed and glanced up when I entered. I settled myself on the side of the bed he wasn't occupying and noticed his stare, "What? It's nothing you haven't seen before." I layed down, facing away from him, and smiled to myself as I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Screaming. Amelia awoke to the sounds of a woman's screams on the night of her fifteenth birthday._

_She yanked the covers off, ran out of her room and down the hallway, stopping in front of her parent's room. She opened the door to find her mother missing from her usual spot on the bed. Worried, Amelia ran downstairs and outside. The toolshed, she noticed, was ablaze. She gasped and ran barefooted over sharp rocks and broken glass._

_She gritted her teeth and yanked on the doorknob. It burned. She yelped and leaped back. She could hear someone coughing, "Mother?"_

_Her mother's gentle face, burned badly, blonde curls nearly singed off entirely, appeared in the small window next to the door. Amelia put her hands up to the glass, ignoring the searing pain that shot through her when her skin made contact. Her mother smiled sadly, "I want you to behave yourself. Can you do that for mommy?"_

_Amelia shook her head, "You're going to be fine, mother!" Tears slid down her cheeks and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand._

_Her mother gave her that same sad look, "I love you."_

_Amelia shook her head and started banging on the glass, "You're gonna be alright, you'll be fine!" She cried and watched helplessly as her mother slipped into unconsciousness and fell back, being devoured by the flames. Amelia started screaming and tried pulling open the door._

_She heard a noice and looked to her left. In the bushes, she saw Theo and his gang running away, towards town, laughing._

* * *

Amelia shot up in bed, gasping for air. Haytham stirred beside her, mumbling at her. She threw the covers back and sighed. She was drenched in sweat. Tightening the robe around her she walked out to the balcony for some fresh air, thinking back on her nightmare.

"Theo." She whispered, pure hatred consuming her at the thought of him. He got away that day. He got away with murder, "I will find you. This, I swear." The wind picked up a few locks of her hair and they danced playfully. She frowned, tears welling up and spilling over, "I'll kill him for you mother. Promise." She hugged herself and went back inside.


	5. Chapter 5

Amelia awoke to the smell of breakfast cooking. She got up and wandered into the kitchen to find Haytham trying to cook bacon and eggs. Amelia sniffed the air and pointed out, "The eggs are burning." Haytham rushed to turn the stove off.

"Dammit." He muttered under his breath, tossing the eggs into the garbage.

Amelia giggled, "Here, let me see if I can salvage the bacon and cook us some pancakes." He moved to sit at the table and she finished cooking the bacon. She rummaged in the cupboard and found a plate.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Haytham asked conversationally.

Amelia nodded and placed the bacon on a plate, "Yeah."

"I remember you moving around in the middle of the night. I was curious, but too tired to comfort you."

She smiled and poured some pancake batter into a skillet, "It was nothing big, just something from my past."

Haytham picked at a loose thread on his trousers and noticed they were unbuttoned. He quickly fastened them, "What was it about?"

She paused, "My mother." Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, hoping to hide it. She flipped the pancake and pressed on it with the spatula, cooking the other side.

"What happened to her?"

Amelia was hesitant to divulge her past to him, or with anyone for that matter. She decided it was safe to discuss it with him, "She was murdered."

Haytham glanced up at her and studied her. She was slumped forward, like she was carrying some invisible weight. Her curls were in wild disaray and Haytham noted that the look suited her, "I'm terribly sorry."

Amelia shrugged and slid his pancake onto his plate. She turned the stove off and brought him his plate.

"My father was an assassin." She sat down in front of him and stared down at the table, hands folded in front of her.

Haytham pretended like this was news to him, "Oh? What made you want to be a Templar, then?"

She smiled to herself, "My mother was one when she was young. Abigail Kates. I figured since her death, it was up to me to continue her legacy." Amelia looked extremely sad and Haytham had the strongest urge to hug her. He swatted the impulse away and leaned on the table, digging into his breakfast, "She and my father never married so I took her surname."

Haytham put down his fork and stared at her, "And what of your father?"

She glanced up at him, "He's still very much alive." She sighed. She felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders after admitting all this to him, "I haven't seen Theo since the day my mother was burned alive."

"Just don't let revenge cloud your judgement." He placed a hand over her's and she smiled at him.

"The sad part is, I never found out why she was killed. Theo believed my mother slept with his father while he was still married but I never found out if it was true."

Haytham stood up, "Well maybe your paths will cross some day and you'll get the answers you seek." Amelia nodded.

"Well then," Haytham put his plate and eating utensils in the wash bin, "Shall we be off?" He moved to the bedroom, Amelia following behind.

"Where are we going?" She inquired, gathering her corset and stockings.

Haytham pulled on his boots, trench coat and hat, "Lexington."

Puzzled, Amelia put her hands on her hips, "What for?"

Haytham sheathed his sword, "Another target."

"Is there no end to the people you have to murder?"

Haytham chuckled under his breath and adjusted his bracer, "Unfortunately, no. This man happens to be a traitor."

Amelia held up a finger, "Hold onto that thought. I just remembered I don't have anything to wear." She held up her undergarments and pointed at the robe she wore.

Haytham frowned, "What happened to that red one I just bought you?"

Amelia tapped her bare foot impatiently, "It's ruined. I tore the hem with my heel and it's filthy."

Haytham rolled his eyes, "Well, just throw it on for now. I'll get you a new one later."

Amelia smiled and practically skipped to where she'd hung the dress singing, "Oh the joys of traveling with the rich."

Haytham couldn't help smiling.

Amelia hurriedly got dressed and joined Haytham outside who was saddling their horses. She climbed atop the chestnut mare and grabbed the reins eagerly, excited at the prospect of another adventure with the sarcastic Grand Master of the Templars.

Haytham straddled his stallion and smirked, "What are you so giddy about?"

Amelia instantly stilled, trying to appear nonchalant, "I'm not."

Haytham's smirk grew into a grin, "Are so."

Amelia huffed and turned her mare the opposite direction. She kneed the horse's sides and the mare trotted off, "Look if you're going to lollygag, you go right ahead, I've got a mission to attend to."

Haytham smacked his forehead with the heel of his palm, "You're going to wrong way. Lexington is this way." He pointed to the east.

Amelia turned her horse around and the mare trotted in the direction he'd pointed, "I knew that." She tilted her head back, nose in the air, and tried to look like she knew what she was doing.

Haytham urged his horse into a canter, catching up to Amelia, "You're full of yourself." His horse matched pace with Amelia's.

She grinned, "You know, I thought the same thing when I first met you."

Haytham cocked a brow, "Really?"

Amelia nodded and pushed her horse into a run, "Yes, really." She leaned forward and slapped the reins against the horse's neck. The mare whinnied and responded by galloping faster.

Amelia always had a fondness for horses, ever since she was a little girl. She loved the way the wind lapped at her face, blowing her hair back behind her, billowing her skirts. The rush of adrenaline she got from riding a horse at full speed was indescribable.

She threw back her head and laughed joyously. Haytham caught up with her, "Do you always get this excited when riding a horse?" He shouted over the wind.

Amelia grinned and slowed her horse, "Yes, actually." She smiled at a childhood memory, "When I was little, I was never permitted a horse. We moved around too much and father said it would be bad for the horse to change its environment too often." She stroked the mare's soft mane, "We never stayed anywhere longer than a year. When we moved into the Homestead, just outside the Frontier, it was the first home we ever stayed at for a long period. By then I had lost interest in owning a horse."

Haytham stared at her curiously, "You didn't want a horse anymore, but you still enjoyed their presence?"

She nodded, " Pretty much."

"Why didn't you want one?"

She sighed, "Actually I did want one but our financial situation wasn't exactly stable. We had been at the Homestead for two years when my mother was killed and after that I lost interest in everything that had once brought be happiness. I was miserable."

Haytham reached for her hand and twined his fingers through hers, "I'm sorry."

She didn't enjoy being pitied, "It's nothing." She shrugged her shoulders. Her heart thumped erratically at his close proximity and his warm hand tangled with hers. She was dissapointed when his hand fell from her grasp and she felt as though he'd just jumped out of her reach.

Was she in love?

* * *

Lexington was barren. It was deviod of people merrily going about their business. It felt abandoned.

"So who're we after?"

"A man named Benjamin Kingsly."

"What's he done?" They stopped their horses at the gate of a Brittish fort. Soldiers littered the camp, some lolling about, others standing rigidly at their posts, eyes scanning the area for potential threats.

"He's been distributing counterfeit money and was caught a few weeks ago." He stepped down from his horse and guided the stallion into the shadows. Amelia moved to do the same, positioning her horse next to his, "The assassin that captured him offered a deal. Templar information for his life." Haytham slunk over to the nearest wall and scaled it in an instant. Amelia struggled to grab any suitable footholds and it took her longer to climb up. Once on top of the wall they jumped down into a conveniently placed stack of hay.

They waited for a few chattering guards to pass before they jumped out, "So did the assassin get any useful information?" Amelia whispered, clutching Haytham's arm as he guided them along the most discreet path to the garrison.

"Yes. Benjamin told him of an attempt on Washington's life." Haytham seethed, spitting the General's name.

"You don't like him, I presume?"

Haytham shook his head, pushing her behind a cart as a few guards passed, "He's weak and a poor excuse for a General. Our military would be thriving if we had a competent leader."

Amelia nodded, not exactly familiar with politics and preferring to keep it that way. Politics were a nasty sport to get involved in and only involved lies and deceit.

"So the assassination was ruined and Benjamin was jailed?"

"Precisely." Haytham slipped into the shadows and Amelia tried following. A nearby guard spotted a red flash as she slipped into the darkness. It didn't appear to be the same red as their uniforms and so he moved to closer inspect the material. He saw the woman attached to the dress and he gasped. They were being infiltrated.


	6. Chapter 6

The guard turned and shouted to the group of soldiers stationed closest to him, "We've been breeched!" The men scrambled at the sound of their comrade's warning. They ran to their captain and alerted him. The man who had sounded the alarm grabbed Amelia by the elbow.

"Hey!" She squealed, swatting at his hand, "Let me go, you buffoon!"

Haytham turned on his heel and, safely stowed away in the dark, he could inspect the scene without detection. He saw that the guard was hauling Amelia away by the arm. She was kicking and screaming. Haytham sighed and rolled his eyes, "I guess I have to rescue her."

He shot out and unsheathed his sword. He was inches away from the man when another guard tackled him to the ground. Haytham grunted and drove his sword through the man's chest. He died instantly and Haytham shoved the carcass off of him.

Guards were scrambling around without direction, yelling at the top of their lungs. Clearly, Haytham noted, their captain had no idea how to control his men. Haytham ran forward, cutting down men as he went, catching up to the brute hauling Amelia away.

Amelia, growing tired of her tantrum, decided to just fall on her behind so he'd have a harder time dragging her, "Hey! Get up!" The guard shouted, stopping to try and yank her to her feet. This gave Haytham the perfect opportunity. He leapt up when he was close enough and landed on the soldier manhandling Amelia. She rolled on the ground to get out of the way. Haytham drove the tip of his sword into the man's throat, decapitating him.

Haytham strode over and picked Amelia up off the ground. He carried her safely out of the fort. The men were too busy shouting and arming themselves with their swords and pistols they didn't notice Haytham make his exit, "Those men would be in deep trouble if they were actually under attack." Amelia giggled and Haytham set her on the ground.

"I thought that you'd continue with your mission. I didn't expect you to come to my rescue."

Haytham smiled and pulled her close, "I can't resist a damsel in distress." He leaned down and cupped her face in his hands. When his lips were inches from her's she pulled back and rested her forehead against his chest.

"I don't know about this." She whispered, biting her lip.

He ran his hand over her back soothingly, "Take your time."

Amelia slowly wrapped her arms around Haytham's neck and gazed up into his deep grey eyes. They were blank. She wanted this so much it hurt. She wanted to love him. She wanted to have everything be okay. But she was taking a risk. She was falling for this man and she didn't know if he'd be there to catch her. She was risking giving him her heart and receiving nothing in return. Would he love her back? He seemed cold and cynical, unable to create true feelings for any woman other than lust. Could she risk it?

"To hell with it!" She pressed herself firmly against him and pulled him down for a kiss. Haytham pulled her closer, not being able to get enough of her. Her lips were soft and gentle. They pawed at eachother frantically, each wanting the other desperately. She pulled away and her breathing was erratic, chest heaving with each intake of air like she was deprived of oxygen. Haytham appeared calm and collected on the outside but inside he was wild with desire. This woman was making a huge impact on him. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and bent down for another kiss.

"I probably shouldn't have done that." She blushed.

Haytham chuckled and stroked her cheek, "And why is that?"

She looked up at him, eyes clear and honest, "Because I'm going to fall hopelessly in love and you won't reciprocate my feelings." She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned slightly.

He was quiet. His expression was solemn and he stared off in the distance to some spot behind her. She could tell he was shutting her out.

He wanted to be truthful with her, but if he was he would risk revealing the true nature of the time he spent with her. Haytham had never wanted to love anyone, choosing instead to devote his time and energy into the Templar order. It was his life.

He looked down at her and could see the hurt on her face. She tried hiding it, but he could see his silence only proved her point. Did he really love her? Was she just a pawn in his plot to find the apple?

He grabbed her hand and led her back to their horses, "Where are we going?" She demanded, hurrying to keep up with him.

He helped her onto her horse and then sat astride his own, "Back to Boston, to my room at the Green Dragon."

* * *

"Why are we here again?" Amelia leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest as she watched Haytham dig through some papers.

"I've got something here that might interest you..." He strode to the other side of the room and looked at the papers strewn across his bed, "Here it is!" He claimed triumphantly, a grin on his face.

He walked over to her and handed her the yellowed paper. She plucked it from his fingers and scanned over it. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him, "This is a police report," He nodded, "Theo was in Boston three weeks ago." Haytham looked down at the paper then back up at her, "Why didn't you tell me?" She narrowed her eyes accusingly and he could see her slim frame was trembling with rage.

"I wasn't sure if it was the same Theo that murdered your mother. When you mentioned him, I remembered I had a report on a man named Theo Brankston." He turned around and searched through his papers again, "I have another report here stating he was charged with the murder of your mother. They found the evidence that he was responsible and they sent him to the gallows." He handed her the report detailing the arrest of Theo Brankston for the murder of Abagail Kates, "Unfortunately the sentence was short. Theo's father is a wealthy man and he was given a five year sentence after his father made a rather large donation to the judge."

She gaped at him, "The man murdered my mother! A simple jail sentence won't satisfy me. I need to kill the man myself!" She stamped her foot. A tactic she used to make her point. Haytham found it rather cute.

"Slow down. Calm yourself and think clearly. Theo was here three weeks ago, he could be anywhere by now. You're not going to just run at him in the dark with nothing to go on, are you? You don't even know where to start!"

She took a deep breath and nodded, "I guess you're right."

"Aren't I always?" He smiled down at her and she swatted his chest playfully, "Why don't we go get something to eat, hm?"

* * *

Haytham handed the man a sack of coins for the bread, cheese and wine. Amelia followed Haytham as he navigated through the crowd of people, heading home after a hard day's work. He used his free hand to grab Amelia's. She looked up at him, then back to the ground. She bit her lip and tried to cover her face as her cheeks started to redden. Haytham looked at her and tugged on her fingers, "Are you embarassed?"

She looked up at him and swatted his arm, "Of course not." She held her head high as she always did to try and look dignified when she was embarassed or was being proven wrong.

Haytham chuckled, "Of course you aren't."

Amelia smiled and looked out in the distance. Her heart stopped.

Over by a group of women stood a man she hadn't seen since the death of her mother, "Theo." She seethed and took off. Haytham called out after her but she blocked out everything that didn't involve the man she was intent on killing.

He turned and spotted her but it was too late. Amelia pounced on him and wrapped her hands around his throat. The women screamed and scattered in different directions. Amelia barely noticed them.

His face was covered in bruises and scars. He looked battered and beaten. He'd always been one to cause trouble, Amelia remembered. His opponents were clearly getting the better of him. His red hair was longer than the last time she saw him when she was thirteen, it was greasy and unkempt. He smelled of sweat and dirt. He was in desperate need of a washing. He did appear to have shaved his beard, though he missed several patches of hair and he had small cuts where he'd shaved too close to his skin.

Amelia reached under her dress and withdrew her daggar. She pressed the tip of the blade to his throat. He snarled in her face, "You don't have the courage to kill me."

She ignored him, "Why did you kill my mother?" She shouted, pressing the tip of her knife into his skin. It was enough pressure to draw blood but not enough to kill him. She wanted answers first.

He laughed hysterically, "You already know why! She was a whore and a filthy Templar! My father had something she wanted, so she slept with him to get information! It didn't work though." He smirked, "The little bitch wasn't very sneaky. Father caught her in his studies, trying to steal important documents."

Amelia gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to strike him down before he finished explaining, "How do you know about the Templars?"

"Why don't you talk to your father about it?" He whispered, smiling at some point behind her, "Now if you'll excuse me," He shoved her back and she felt a sharp piercing sensation just below her left shoulder blade. She cried out in pain, "I've got an important meeting to attend." She watched his retreating figure through blurred vision. She fell on her back and looked up to see a man dressed in black robes standing above her.

"Your father isn't the only one with a map to the apple."

She groaned in pain and tried getting up. When she couldn't, she just lay there, "Who are you?"

"I'm Theo's father, but you may call me James."

Everything faded to black.


	7. Chapter 7

Amelia opened her eyes. She was lying on a brown bedspread and was facing wood paneled walls. She was back in Haytham's room at the Green Dragon. She sat up abruptly and instantly regretted it. A sharp searing pain shot through her back. She groaned and flopped back onto the bed. At the sound of her distress, Haytham entered, "Are you feeling any better?"

"Just peachy." She replied through gritted teeth, "Why didn't you warn me that I was about to get stabbed in the back?"

Haytham brought up a chair to sit next to her, "I lost you in the crowd. I called out to you, but you didn't hear me. When I found you, you already lost consciousness and were lying in a pool of blood. Then I brough you to a doctor and had you bandaged up before bringing you back here." He paused, "What happened, exactly? Why'd you run off like that?"

Amelia hesitated. She looked up at him and saw the honest concern on his face. Decided, she said, "Theo. I saw him and took the opportunity. I asked for answers and he told me what I already knew only this time he said mother was after some documents." She sat up, wincing at the painful effort, "He knows about the Templars. I asked him how he knew and he told me to consult my father." She rubbed her temples, "I just don't understand!" She shouted, flustered.

Haytham rubbed her arm soothingly, "Maybe if you talk to your father, he can clear some things up."

She ground her teeth together and screwed her eyes shut tightly as another wave of pain washed over her when she tried stretching, "But I haven't seen him since I was eighteen."

Haytham stood up, "Take a trip to see him tomorrow. Talk things out with him. It'll all fall into place, don't worry." He turned and left.

* * *

Amelia took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself. She knocked on the familiar wooden door and waited. She heard the shuffling of old, tired feet from inside and the door swung open. Achillies had to do a double take to make sure it was actually his daughter standing in front of him, "Amelia." He breathed, tears pricking his eyes. He hurriedly blinked them away, "Come in, come in." He ushered her inside and she hugged him.

"It's nice to see you, father."

He guided her into the living room and brought another chair and set it in front of the fire. He lowered himself into his own chair as Amelia sat in hers, "You've grown so much." He admired her curly locks, piled in a heap on top of her head. Her smooth, porcelain skin and her sharp, intelligent features, "You look so much like your mother." He commented, a sad smile tugging at his lips.

She smiled and nodded, "Thank you." They spent some time catching up, wondering what the other had been doing. Achillies had been enjoying retirement. Amelia caught him up on her recent adventures, deciding to tell him about her newly found love at a later date.

She sipped at the tea he had brewed for her. She set the cup aside and smoothed out the wrinkles on her trousers. She had donned casual wear for this visit, opting for brown trousers, a white shirt and a pair of boots, "Father, do you remember Theo?"

She watched for a reaction. Achillies's eyes darkened at the name and he nodded, frowning, "I do." His voice was filled with hate.

"I've seen him recently and we talked." She watched him carefully, "He knows about the Templars." Achillies didn't seem surprised, "When I asked him how, he told me to talk to you." She picked up her cup and resumed sipping her tea, "Why would he tell me to ask you?"

Achillies sighed and stared into the fire, leaning heavily on his walking stick, "Theo's father is an Assassin."

Amelia leaned forward, "Does that mean Theo is one as well?" Achillies shook his head.

"He was always getting into trouble and he never completed his training. Theo was declined by the brotherhood because they didn't feel he would be capable of the job. He didn't have all the requirements." Achillies stood up and dug around in his office until he emerged with a box. He handed to box to Amelia and she opened it. Inside the box was an old pair of Templar robes, the red cross ingisnia faded and cracked, and a rusted sword. Amelia looked up at him and he nodded, "I am, or was, a Templar."

* * *

Haytham finished the rest of his morning meal and glanced up when the tavern's door swung open to reveal Charles Lee. He strode over to his commander and sat opposite him, "Sir, have you got the map yet?"

Haytham shook his head and finished off his tankard of ale, "Not yet. She's got to fully trust me before I can ask her to get the map from her father."

Lee nodded, "Of course, sir. But what then? How will you dispose of her?"

Haytham pursed his lips and avoided looking Lee directly in the eyes, "I haven't decided yet."

* * *

Amelia stood up, her cup shattering on the floor, tea sploshing her boots, and she tossed the box aside, "Why didn't you tell me?" She shouted, "And why did you try to get me to become an assassin?" She started pacing.

"Your mother and I wanted what was best for you. We didn't want you to lead this life so we agreed to train you as an assassin. But when you wouldn't become an assassin, I took some precautionary measures."

She folded her arms over her chest defensively, "What kind of precautions?"

He sighed, "I paid your captain to take you under his wing. I paid him to look after you."

Dissapointed, her arms fell to her sides. She stared blankly at him, "You mean to tell me..." He nodded, "That I'm not really an actual Templar?"

"I'm sorry." It was all he could think to say.

Amelia grabbed the box and threw it into the fire, "You've been lying all this time and all you're sorry? Sorry won't bring back all those years I spent, unknowingly living a lie, believing I was one of them. Believing I was somewhere I belonged." Her voice was oddly calm, her tone lowered. It made her sound all the more dangerous. She didn't want to hurt her father. Instead, to cope with the betrayl, she pulled out her dagger from her waistband and unpinned her hair. She grabbed and handful and started hacking it away, handfuls at a time.

When she was finished, she stood, daggar in her hand, sticky with blood from where she'd cut herself on her neck. Her hair had been shortened a considerable amount. Her curly locks now reached just above her shoulders. She turned and, without a word, left the house, slamming the door behind her, leaving Achillies stunned and saddened.

* * *

Amelia spent the next three days holed up in the little house on the outskirts of Boston she'd been staying at since she arrived. Haytham had tried to get her to come out on several occasions, to no avail. He hadn't realized she'd come back until the day after she'd gone to see Achillies. Charles had said he'd seen her riding into town on a horse and it had taken him a moment to recognize her with her new hair cut.

"Dammit!" Haytham pounded his fist against the wall of his room at the Green Dragon. Lee sat at the foot of his bed, "I need to know what happened. Why won't she come out?"

Lee offered advice, "She's a woman, she probably just needs some time."

"Time for what?! What happened that has her so bothered?!"

Haytham heard a tentative knock and looked to see Amelia standing in the doorway. She looked worn out. Her eyes were rimmed with red, like she'd been crying. She had bags under her eyes and the hollow beneath her eyes was dark. She hadn't gotten much sleep. He went over and grabbed her shoulder, "Come in." He set her down on the bed and Lee excused himself. She stared blankly at the floor boards for a few moments before speaking.

Her voice was shaky, "I'm not really a Templar."

"What do you mean?" Haytham sat next to her and grabbed her hand. It was cold to the touch and she appeared thinner than the last time he saw her.

"My father paid someone to look after me. My captain. He paid my captain. I wasn't really a Templar." She looked like she wanted to cry, but nothing came. She's dried up all her tears, "He lied. He betrayed me. I didn't want to hurt him." She unconsciously grabbed at her hair, "So I just cut my hair. I didn't know what I was doing until I did it."

Haytham rubbed her back soothingly, "It was your way of coping with everything." Amelia just stared down at her lap. Haytham noticed the little cuts on her neck that were scabbing over, "Did you hurt yourself cutting your hair?" She didn't respond and he just pulled her into an embrace. She lay limp for a moment, then she gripped the back of his cape tightly, "It'll be alright." She hoped it would.

That night she gave in to temptation. Haytham kissed her with a burning passion she would never forget as long as she lived. He was gentle with her, trailing kisses down her neck and torso. His hands roamed her body and her nails made welts along his back and broad, muscular chest. They made love well into the wee hours of the morning and Amelia momentarily forgot all the hurt and betrayl she'd experienced. She forgot about everything that didn't involve Haytham. It was pure bliss and for the moment, she was happy, unaware of the impending tragedies that awaited her.


	8. Chapter 8

Amelia awoke the next morning to an empty spot next to her. Haytham had gone out to do God only knows what. She sat up slowly and glanced around, wondering what she'd do with her day. She had no friends to occupy her time with. Maybe she'd finally go out and buy that horse, she decided, getting up to put her trousers and blouse on. She dug around until she found a sack of money in a spare pair of boots Haytham kept under the bed, "I'm sure he won't mind." She smiled to herself. He never did buy that dress he promised her, so this would make up for it.

She wandered around town leisurely, enjoying the sights and smells and the warm sun beating down on her. She found a stout, friendly little farmer on the outskirts of town. His bushy mustache and his friendly face made her smile. They shook hands, "What can I do for you, little lady?"

Amelia smiled and leaned against the fence post, "I'm looking to buy a horse. Would you happen to know where I can find one?"

He smiled brightly and nodded, "You're in luck, ma'am. I have a horse I've been lookin' to get rid of. We can't afford to keep her." He set down his tools and ambled towards his barn. Amelia followed.

He slid open the door and gestured inside. Towards the back a snow white mare stood, grazing on a bale of hay. Her ears pricked and she looked at the door when a sudden flood of afternoon sun infiltrated the cool air of the barn, "There she is. She's only a few years old but she's calm and already trained. Though she's a bit shy and doesn't really take to human contact." Amelia giggled and stepped inside. Already decided, she handed the man the sack of money and started towards the horse. The mare's eyes settled on Amelia as she stopped in the middle of the barn.

After a short hesitation, the mare trotted right over to her and nuzzled Amelia. She laughed and patted the horse's neck affectionately, "Well I'll be damned." The man scratched his head curiously.

Amelia glanced back at him and smiled sweetly, "I have an affinity for horses." The mare nickered, as if in agreement. The man waddled forward and handed her a well used bridle.

"The saddle is over there." He pointed to a wooden post where a saddle was mounted, "I'm sure you're familiar with saddling a horse. I'll leave you to it and get back to work." Amelia nodded and slipped the bridle on.

"Thank you." She called out to his retreating figure and walked over to grab the saddle, the mare following behind her. After adjusting the straps appropriately and making sure everything was secure and in the right place, Amelia climbed onto her new horse and smiled to herself. She gently squeezed her knees into the horse's sides and the mare trotted off.

* * *

When Amelia returned to Haytham's room at the Green Dragon, a smile on her face from the day's events, she was greeted by Charles Lee and Thomas Hickey, two of Haytham's henchmen.

She stopped at the door, confused. Lee gave her a menacing grin and Hickey just stared coldly at her. She put her hands on her hips and glared at them, "What's the meaning of this?"

Hickey stepped forward, "We did a little research." He gestured towards Lee behind him, "Seems your little daddy isn't what he seems." His southern drawl rolled off his tongue and for some reason his voice tempted Amelia to throw her fist in his face. It grated on her nerves.

"What do you mean?" She stepped in the room a few paces, standing her ground.

"He's a Templar." Charles got up to join Hickey, a mere five feet in front of Amelia.

"He used to be," Amelia corrected, stepping back a half inch to give herself some space, "He went undercover."

Hickey grinned and Lee chuckled, but actions devoid of humor. It freightened her, "He's undercover alright. He was never an Assassin."

Amelia, shocked, stepped forward and grabbed Hickey by the collar, "That's impossible!"

Hickey grabbed her slender wrist easily and she tried shaking herself free, but his grip was like iron, "He's been sayin' he was undercover as a Templar." Amelia bit her lip. He was right. Her father did tell her that a little while ago.

He leaned a little too close for Amelia's comfort. Lee intervened, "Now, now, Hickey. Let her go. She's fragile."

She stamped her foot, "I am not!"

They both laughed, "How cute." Lee grinned and grabbed the collar of her shirt. He yanked the thin fabric and the first few buttons popped off, clattering to the floor at her feet.

"Anyway," Hickey continued, "He's been tryin' to get rid o' Haytham and keep the Apple for 'imself."

Lee nodded, "He's aware Haytham knows he's got the actual location of the apple and he's fearful Haytham will get to it before he does."

Amelia cocked her fist and threw a punch at Lee, putting all her weight into the blow. Lee easily caught her arm and she looked up at him, defeated, "Where's Haytham?"

Lee and Hickey exchanged a knowing glance, "Your father's." They said simultaneously.

* * *

Amelia threw herself onto her newly purchased mare and squeezed her knees together. The mare reared on her hind legs before galloping away.

The snow white mare skidded to a stop in front of the Homestead. Amelia jumped to the ground and raced up the steps. She jiggled the handle, only to find it locked, "Dammit." She muttered, sprinting to the back door. It was locked, too. She gripped a handful of hair in each hand, thinking of another way in. She looked up and saw that Achilies's bedroom window was open. She stepped back a few paces and ran forward, jumping up at the last minute.

Her fingers grabbed a suitable purchase and she started crawling up the side of the house. She heaved herself up over the windowsill and she rolled inside, not making a single noise.

She got to her feet and treaded softly downstairs. When she rounded the corner, heading into her father's office, the scene she saw there made her heart drop to her stomach.

Haytham was hunched over Achilies, who lay on the ground in front of his desk, limbs splayed out, head turned away from her. Her father's hat had tumbled off and lay several feet away. Haytham withdrew his blade from the soft flesh of Achilies's neck and wiped the crimson liquid off on the dead man's coat. He stood erect and reached for a piece of paper on Achilies's desk. Amelia noticed that it had blue and red markings on it.

He rolled it up and stuffed it in the waistband of his trousers. Amelia stepped forward. Her knees gave out and she fell to the floor. She sat staring up at Haytham who had turned at the sound of her fall, "Why?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper. He stepped over her father's body and reached her in three long strides.

"For the apple, of course." He grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet.

She did nothing to stop him, "I thought you... loved me?" He started dragging her towards the door.

"Well, you assumed wrongly." He took her out the front door, stopping briefly to look over the white mare standing where she'd left it before leading her around back, "Your horse?"

She was instantly afraid. She didn't know this cruel man who was carelessly tossing her to the ground, binding her hands behind her back before helping her onto his horse, "Y-yes." She stuttered. This was not the Haytham she'd known and come to love.

"Where did you get the money for it?" He sat astride the horse now and was turning it back towards Boston.

"I borrowed it." She still hadn't raised her voice. She was in shock.

"I'm sure you did."

* * *

She spent the next few days bound up inside Haytham's room at the tavern. She had no idea what he was up to or what his plans for her were. She didn't want to believe this was happening. She refused to acknowledge the man she loved had murdered her father in cold blood and then started looking at her like she were no more than dirt under his shoe. All the affection she had previously seen in his eyes when he looked at her was gone. His touch no longer flooded her with warmth. Instead she felt the hate and disgust rolling off of him as if it were tangible.

Haytham emerged that night, rousing her from a fitful sleep, "Get up." She groggily followed behind him as he led her to a table near the back. Only a few men sat at the bar, chatting with one another, but Haytham paid them no attention. Lee, Hickey, and a few other men she didn't recognize sat around, chatting idly, "Gentlemen." Haytham called them to attention and they instanly silenced. He sat Amelia in the chair designated as his own at the head of the table. He gestured for a man in redcoat uniform to stand and Haytham took the seat, setting it beside Amelia, "Pitcairn." The man nodded and stepped back to allow his leader to sit.

"Amelia." She looked up at Haytham when he spoke, her eyes pleading with him. Despite everything, she still loved him. Haytham's heart felt heavy as he gazed at the tired, battered face of the woman he'd spent so much of his time with recently. He'd come to enjoy her company and, although she was just a pawn in his ploy to steal the apple for himself, he did feel a tinge of regret for having to betray her. She'd already gone through so much. Left motherless at a young age, having her father lie to her all of her life, watching him get murdered. He knew a fraile woman such as her could only handle so much.

"The precursor site is somewhere near here. It's a Mohawk Indian village. Do you know where we can find such a place?" Amelia stared blankly at him and for a moment he thought he'd have to repeat himself. She eventually gave a slow nod and continued staring at him until he spoke again, "You're to lead us to it, understand?"

She stared down at her lap, "Yes." She'd lost all will to fight. She was outnumbered and didn't have anyone she could trust anymore. She was feeling slightly light headed and a little nauseous.

Satisfied, Haytham nodded, "We leave first thing tomorrow morning."


	9. Chapter 9

The village was easy enough to find. Haytham though he might've been able to find it without Amelia's help if she'd pointed him in the right direction. The village elder had greeted the men with curiosity. Amelia felt sorry for them. They'd probably be slaughtered right after they gave up the location of the apple. Haytham spoke slowly, "Do you know someone who can speak English?" The woman had nodded and called out a foreign name.

A young man trotted up to meet her and she explained something to him in their native tongue. The man nodded, "I am able to translate for you."

"Excellent." Haytham clasped his hands together before speaking in a low, meacing tone, "You'll be able to tell me where the apple is, then?" The man, knowing what the Englishman's presence meant, grabbed for the longbow draped across his back. Haytham was faster. He ensnared the man's arms and twisted them at an unnatural angle. The Mowhawkman cried out in pain.

Haytham applied more pressure and the Indian dropped to his knees, "Just give me what I want." He yelled at the man. The Indian nodded his head, another anguished cry escaping before Haytham relaxed his grip, letting go of the man altogether.

"Good." Haytham helped him to his feet. The Mowhawkman started leading Haytham inside their fortress. Haytham beckoned for his men to follow. As soon as the chance arose, the Indian spun around, the knife Haytham hadn't seen him draw slashing across his abdomen. Haytham clutched his stomach and groaned, dropping to his knees, "After them!" He shouted. His men responded by loading their muskets and charging after any foreigner that got in their way. Women, men, children, Haytham's men shot at them all. Amelia watched, dumbfounded, as all the bodies dropped to the ground, blood pooling around them. Innocent people getting killed. She wanted to help but she couldn't do much, sitting on Haytham's horse, hands tied behind her back.

She noticed Haytham was on his feet again, sword drawn, hacking down people as he went, bellowing at them to just give up and give him what he wants. The nauseous feeling Amelia had been experiencing often lately suddenly became overwhelming. She leaned over her horse and vomited what little she had in her stomach. After a few dry heaves, she looked up to see that Haytham's men had scattered, leaving him to fight off a few big, burly Indians.

"Where are you going?! Come back and fight you fools!" Haytham turned as something caught his eye. Lee was striding forward, something shiny in his hands. He held up the Apple for Haytham to see and the object glinted in the sun. Haytham smiled and looked up just in time to see that one of the large Indian men was swinging a fist at him. Haytham ducked and turned, running after Lee who was heading for the horses. The Indians sprinted after them.

The horse Amelia was on reared suddenly, throwing her off balance. She toppled over and landed on her rear ungracefully. Most of the impact was absorbed by the thick mound of grass she'd landed on, but she knew she'd be bruised in the morning. Haytham and Lee ran past her and she called out, "What about me?" She squealed just as one of the Indians picked her up and held onto her forearm tightly. Haytham turned to look at her. He had started retreating, backing away a few inches, gaze fixed on the helpless woman who he'd grown fond of.

She squirmed in the man's grasp, trying, unsuccessfully, to free herself. The Indian grunted, obviously trying to communicate. Haytham got the message. The apple for the girl.

Haytham didn't want to give up the one thing he'd been searching for so hard this entire time. He knew he was outmatched, so fighting them for her was clearly out of the question.

Haytham was torn between the choices and the difficulty he was having deciding this was evident on his otherwise hard features. He gnawed on his bottom lip, eyes darting between Amelia and the two large Mowhawkmen. Decided, he spun on his heel, yanked the apple from Charles's grasp and held it high in the air.

The apple suddenly erupted in golden light. The harshness of it had Amelia screwing her eyes shut. When she opened them, the Indians had let go of her and were standing at attention. Confused, Amelia glanced at Haytham, then back at the other men. She noticed a difference in them and her suspicion was confirmed when both men grabbed their bows and walked a few paces in opposite directions.

Amelia gaped as she saw the men pull their bows back to full draw, their arrows knocked and ready. At another flash of the blinding light, the men released their arrows and Amelia saw both men collapse on the ground, an arrow shaft protruding from each man's chest.

"Sir?" Charles began, a puzzled expression on his face. He looked at Haytham to confirm what he had just witnessed.

Haytham stood silent, staring at Amelia, who was staring back just as intently. Finally coming to her senses, after wriggling out of her bindings, she flailed her arms about, "What in the bloody hell was that?" Her high pitched voice showed evidence of her anxiety about the day's past events.

Haytham cleared his voice and turned to Charles, "Shall we be off?"

Amelia started forward, "Now just wait one damn minute!" She stamped her foot. When the two comrades didn't respond she stared down at the ground. All her life she'd believed that childish behavior would get her whatever she desired. Now she finally realized that she'd have to obtain things on her own terms. She reached into her boot and pulled out a small throwing knife. It wasn't enough to kill anyone, but it'd sure put them in pain.

Amelia drew her arm back and then slung it forward with all her might. The tiny knife spun rapidly before slamming into its target. The blade sunk into the soft flesh between Haytham's shoulder blades, "ARRGH!" He cried out and dropped to his knees.

Amelia sauntered over, kneeled in front of him and said in a sweet voice, "Did that hurt?" Batting her lashes and poking out her bottom lip slightly. She put on a mask of innocence.

Haytham grunted angrily, "Of course it bloody did! You put a knife in me!" He shouted at her, flailing his arms, mimicking what she'd done moments before, unable to do more than sit there and mope. Amelia stood up and held out a hand.

"Good." He grabbed her outstretched forearm and she helped heave him off the ground.

"How in the world is that 'good'?" He glared at her.

"Because you were about to let those men kill me. You let your greed get the best of you." She and a confused Charles helped Haytham out of the forest, "Not only that, but you betrayed me. You're damn lucky I didn't do more than nick you in the back with that knife."

Haytham looked down at her and smiled slightly, "If I were you, I would have killed me. Why didn't you?"

Amelia looked up at him as if he were daft, "It's because I love you."

Haytham frowned and looked away, "I don't deserve it." He muttered, limping into Boston alongside his only two companions.

* * *

Amelia needed a few day's time to think. She stayed at the little shack outside of Boston she'd been at before she had started rooming with Haytham. She wasn't sure if she should trust Haytham again. After all, he had used her in his ploy to obtain the apple. There was no doubt about her infalliable love for him, but would he just betray her again? She wanted to believe that he had saved her because he reciprocated her strong feelings of affection.

Haytham was just finishing his afternoon meal when a familiar slim blonde figure strode into the Green Dragon. He smiled as she made her way to his table, receiving a few catcalls and appreciative glances at her backside, much to Haytham's distaste.

She pulled up a chair and sat across from him, "Mind buying a lady something to drink?" She purred, grinning at him.

He chuckled, "Have you eaten, yet?"

Amelia frowned, the thought of food making her nauseous, "No thanks, I haven't had much of an appetite, lately." Her brows suddenly knitted together in both confusion and concentration. She was thinking back in her head a few weeks, trying to remember something. The thought occured to both of them at the same time and they hurried off.

* * *

The medic came back into the room a few minutes later. Haytham stood off to the side, wringing his hands in frustration. Amelia sat rigidly on the examining table, wiping her clammy hands repeatedly on her trousers.

"Congratulations, you're pregnant." The older man beamed at them, as if they should be thrilled at this aspect.

They both leapt up and shouted, "What?!"


	10. Chapter 10

The man stroked his graying beard thoughtfully, "Normally when I provide news of a healthy child on the way, parents are thrilled."

Amelia sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, "We really didn't plan for this, nor did we expect it." She glanced back at Haytham, who's face was pale and frozen with shock. Amelia giggled and looked back at the doctor who was writing some things down on a scrap of parchment.

He handed it to her, "Here are some things I recommend for your new diet. You'll need a variety of nutrients to nurture the growing baby inside you. I've also written down some ways to get excersize without straining yourself too much. Daddy, over there will also have to help with household chores and such." He gestured to Haytham who had composed himself and appeared to be thinking this through, trying to take in the news of his offspring.

"Thank you, doctor." Haytham helped Amelia to her feet. She swatted him away.

"Calm down, I'm not that round, yet." She looked back at the doctor as she grabbed her coat from Haytham's outstretched hand, "When will I notice the weight gain?"

The doctor shrugged, "It depends on the woman. Wait for your morning sickness to subside and you should see a very noticable amount of gain."

Amelia nodded her thanks and followed Haytham outside. They walked in silence for a while. Amelia felt herself growing weary. She was afraid to admit it, but the prospect of a child growing inside her both scared and excited her at the same time. She tenderly placed a hand over her stomach and frowned. It still felt about the same.

Haytham suddenly stopped in the middle of the street, sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before he spoke, "I don't really know what to think. I never expected children, let alone this soon." He started walking again and Amelia hurried to follow him, her feet aching. She could practically feel her ankles swelling, already. She recalled some time ago, when she had listened to her best friend complain about the very same thing. Beatrice hadn't been too careful and had gotten pregnant rather early. It had been the year Amelia's class was to graduate.

Haytham stopped and turned to face her. He took her hand and stroked her knuckles thoughtfully, "I really don't want to say this, seeing as how you're in such a predicament, but I have to leave for a while."

Amelia dropped her arm to her side and blinked at him, processing this, "Ok." She drew out the simple word and sighed heavily.

Haytham reassured her, "I'm not running away, if that's what you think. I've planned this trip for some time now." Amelia nodded her understanding and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"It's alright."

"We'll get through this, I promise." He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back soothingly. They had a long journey ahead of them.

* * *

Haytham brushed himself off and strode towards the Captain's quarters. It was the third time he'd gotten into a fight on that damned ship. He was having a dreadful time and was wondering how Amelia and his child were faring. He knocked brusquely a few times. When he got no answer, Haytham barged in, shoving the door open with his shoulder. The Captain was slouched over his desk, papers scattered everywhere, a drink spilled over what looked like important documents.

Haytham stomped into the room, hoping to get the man's attention. There was no response from the unmoving figure bent over his desk. Haytham nudged the man's leg with the tip of his boot. The Captain clattered to the floor, his lifeless eyes staring up into nothingness, the knife protruding crudely from his chest.

Amelia groaned with the effort it took to heave herself out of bed. It had been three months since her pregnancy was announced and another three months since Haytham had left on his voyage, claiming to have business to attend to.

The cheery midwife hired to assist Amelia with the pregnancy poked her head into the bedroom of the old shack outside Boston, "Rise and shine! I've prepared a healthy breakfast for you." The woman, Aileen, hurried to help Amelia to her feet. She'd gotten pretty big and chose to wear loose fitting, simple gowns. It was all she _**could**_ wear.

"If you needn't require me any further, I shall be off." Aileen smiled and closed the front door behind her, leaving Amelia to her own devices. She sighed and rubbed her belly fondly.

"Hurry up and get here, I'm getting tired of lugging you around everywhere." She smiled to herself.

* * *

There was chaos for the next few days. No one could recall seeing anything suspicious or hearing about any intended mutiny. Haytham took charge at the death of the Captain. He was calm and collected as he addressed the crew, "With the death of your ship's commander, I, Haytham Kenway, an experienced sailor, will take over as your new Captain."

It was literally smooth sailing for the next two weeks. Haytham had no problems with anyone aboard the vessel and the weather was clear. It was the end of the fourth week when Haytham hit rough waters. It was difficult to traverse through the roiling waves and for every meter they gained the wind pushed them farther back. Lighting struck and the crew was fearful they would get hit. Eventually, Haytham landed safely in the French harbor, ship still intact.

Haytham glanced around, appearing to be looking for someone. When he spotted the familiar figure leaning against a horse stall, Haytham called out to him, "Charles!" Lee spotted his Grandmaster and trotted over to him.

"Sir?" Lee grabbed Haytham's luggage and started in the general direction of what Haytham assumed and hoped to be an inn. He was weary from his travels and wanted to lay down and get some rest to ease his aching bones and cramped muscles.

"Have you seen hide or tail of that crooked fellow Theo?"

"No, sir."

Haytham and Lee shoved their way through the crowds and soon found a suitable establishment. It looked sturdy enough. The paint was chipped in several places, though they were small and only visible to the trained eye. The door didn't groan in protest like older doors did and it swung open easily enough. The inside was spotless. Haytham and Lee strode over to the bar, which was being thoroughly cleaned by an older gentleman. He looked up and wiped his hands on his apron. Haytham nodded and the man extended a hand in greeting.

"Bonjour." Haytham shook the man's outstretched hand, "How can I be of assistance?"

Haytham leaned over the counter and spoke in a lowered tone, "Can you help us find someone?"

* * *

The familiar sallow faced man with the striking red hair and matching beard made his way through the crowd of people, browsing the street vendor's selections. He'd gotten considerably older, Haytham noted from his perch on the building opposite the murderer. He could see the wrinkles creasing his face and the purplish bruises in the hollow of his eyes. His posture was slumped and he seemed to be shuffling along like an elderly would. Lee noticed this as well, "Isn't he the same age as Amelia?"

Haytham nodded, "Yes, but it looks as though he's been dabbling in a bit of drugs."

Lee nodded, "What's our next move?"

Haytham sighed, "Well I'm planning on killing him. Although I know Amelia won't appreciate this, but this could be our only chance to catch this villain. Besides, she couldn't possibly think she could manage to catch him in her state, even if his health has declined a considerable amount."

Lee nodded his understanding, "Of course, sir."

Haytham stood erect and leapt off the building, diving into a cart of hay positioned diagonally from the apple vendor Theo was at. A group of people crowded by the cart and Haytham jumped out, moving with them so he wouldn't be spotted. Theo started moving down the street again and Haytham whistled loudly. At the signal, Lee suddenly appeared at the end of the street Theo was moving along. In his condition, he probably wouldn't recognize Haytham or even remember why he'd been so furious with Amelia's mother.

Haytham knew that drugs killed brain cells and basically turned the person into a walking, talking vegetable and depending on the severity, sometimes they couldn't even function properly. They couldn't do menial tasks such as brushing their teeth or feeding themselves.

Theo nearly bumped into Lee, his blurred vision not recognizing the indiscernable man in front of him, "Watch it." His voice was rough and gravelly. Lee had no doubt whatever he was taking was taking a toll on him. He probably didn't have much longer to live. He grabbed Theo and shoved him into an alleyway. Theo, not understanding, tripped and stumbled forward, falling at Haytham's feet who was waiting for them both.

"What's going on?" Theo tried standing, but his body wouldn't allow him the luxury.

Haytham put his boot on top of the man's back, "I'm here as a favor for Amelia Kates."

It took Theo a moment to understand, but once he recognized the name, he was instantly grovelling and begging for mercy, "Please! Don't kill me! I was only mad at her because she denied my affections when we were younger! Her mother didn't really sleep with my father!"

Haytham paused, hand on the hilt of his sword, "Then why did you kill her?" Haytham could see the tears streaming down his face freely. Theo was terrified of embracing death.

"It was all father's idea. He wanted Amelia for himself, but Achilies got to her first. He told me that if he couldn't have her, then nobody could."

Haytham scratched the stubble on his chin, "But why have your fifteen year old boy do your bidding?"

"Don't you get it? He didn't want to get his hands dirty. Everything was a huge lie!" He was shouting and Haytham applied more pressure on his foot.

"Quiet!" He snapped.

Theo whimpered but obliged him, lowering his voice slightly, "When dad found out Achillies had a map to the apple, my dad snuck in and made a copy. He wanted to destroy everything Achilies held dear. He didn't even really want the apple, nor did he enjoy being an assassin. It was just something he was born into. His own father trained him to be a killer."

Haytham nodded, "So her mother died because of you and your father's envy."

Theo shrugged, "It sounds so much worse when you put it that way."

Haytham unsheathed his sword and drove it into the man's backside. He coughed and blood gurgled in his mouth before trickling out the sides. Haytham withdrew his sword and kicked the dead man in the ribs, "Idiot." He seethed.

* * *

Amelia lay in bed, flooded with fond memories of her father. Pushing her on the swing as a child, teaching her how to ride a horse, helping her cook her first meal after her mother's death, "I should have listened to father and become an Assassin. Maybe it would have been safer." Then she realized the flaw in her statement. It probably would have been just as dangerous being an assassin. He had just been trying to protect her in his own way. She sighed and heaved herself out of bed. Another month had passed since Haytham's departure. She wondered briefly how much longer he was going to be away when she heard a knock at the door, "Coming!" She called, slipping on her robe and shuffling to the door.

She swung open the door and was face to face with the last person she ever believed she would see again, "My goodness. Beatrice? Is that really you?" She threw her arms around her fellow high school graduate.

The brunette beamed at her and curtsied, "How've you been? Besides glowing with pregnancy, I see."

Amelia ushered her inside and shut the door excitedly, "Oh my, it's been ages!" She squealed, "What brings you here?"

Amelia gratefully lowered herself into a chair and Beatrice pulled up her own, "Actually, I heard about your father's death recently." She placed a hand on Amelia's, "I'm terribly sorry."

Amelia nodded sadly, "It's quite alright." Then something occured to her, "How did you know? Last I heard, you were in London."

Beatrice smiled sheepishly, "About that... I'm sort of a Templar." She took a deep breath and braced for the explosion she was sure to come.

Amelia was utterly shocked. She was at a loss for words. Everyone she thought she'd known was turning out to be the opposite of what she expected, "Unbelievable. Is there no end to the surprises life keeps throwing at me?" She threw up her hands, exhasperated.

Beatrice couldn't help but laugh, "You're still the same as ever, I see." Amelia crossed her arms over her chest and grumbled something unintelligible, "But I'm here to bring you news of Theo's death. He was assassinated in a deserted alleyway in France."

Amelia perked up instantly, "Oh? By whom?"

"Grandmaster Haytham."


	11. Chapter 11

Amelia frowned, "Haytham? You can't be serious. That's the mission he's been on this entire time?"

Beatrice nodded, "He knew you'd probably get angry."

Amelia waved the comment away, "No. Not really. I did want to kill him with my own hands but I'm glad he's dead. How long have you known Haytham?"

Beatrice shrugged, "Ever since I joined the order a few years after graduation. My father's in the order as well."

Amelia perked up, "Oh? Do I know him?"

Beatrice shrugged again, "Charles Lee?"

Amelia groaned and smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand, "Oh for the love of-" She hauled herself up and wandered into the kitchen, "How did I not see this coming?"

Beatrice followed her and noticed she was getting out cups and tea bags, "Here, let me do that for you." She gently ushered Amelia back into her chair and started fixing the tea.

Amelia groaned and rubbed her face, "Things just keep getting better and better." She grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest, "You two look nothing alike." She could see Beatrice nodding.

"Yeah, I took after my mum. She got yellow fever and died when I was young. Father brought me into the order when I became of age and when he decided I was ready." Beatrice walked back to her chair and handed a cup of tea to Amelia. She took severeal hearty gulps of the beverage. Beatrice noticed that pregnancy suited her well. She'd known Amelia to be rash and childish when she was younger but she had no doubt that a child would mature her. She'd be a wonderful mother.

Amelia put her emptied cup aside and smoothed out her robe, "Do you know when Haytham will be back?"

Beatrice nodded, "He actually sent me himself. I was on the ship with him. He'll be back within a fortnight."

"Two weeks? Alright. How come you're here earlier than he is?" Although she guessed she probably already knew this answer, she felt the impulse to ask anyway. He probably had unsettled business to attend to.

"He had to stop in Lexington."

Realization dawned on her, "Oh. Benjamin Kingsly."

Beatrice nodded, "You got it."

Kingsly was the traitor Haytham had sought to kill nearly a year ago. He'd sold out the Templars and was rotting in the gallows. Haytham and Amelia had been trying to infiltrate the fort he was jailed in but they had been found out and had to make a quick getaway. Apparently, according to Beatrice, he had foolishly stayed in Lexington.

"He figured he was in the clear and didn't bother hiding himself so Haytham's gone to finish him off."

Amelia nodded, "That's good."

Beatrice leaned forward and rubbed Amelia's bulging stomach affectionately, "So when's the little mutant spawn due?" Amelia laughed and they gossiped for the next few hours, catching up with each other. They talked about what life had been like since graduating and going their seperate ways.

* * *

Haytham stepped foot into Boston and for once was glad to be back in the dirty streets, crawling with rats and filthy beggars. It was where his woman and child resided. Eager to see Amelia's bright face and beautiful smile once again, he set off for the little house outside town where Amelia awaited his return.

Haytham knocked on the door and heard the heavy footsteps of the seven month pregnant woman inside, "Haytham!" She squealed, throwing her arms around him, "It's been too long!"

Haytham grunted with the force of her hug, "You've gotten rather large."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." She grinned as she hauled him inside. He shut the door behind him and pulled her in for a gentle kiss.

"I've missed you."

Amelia put her face in the crook of his neck and they embraced for what seemed like hours, "I've missed you too." She finally managed through the happy tears streaming down her face.

He pulled away, "I assume you've heard about Theo."

Amelia nodded, "Good riddance."

Haytham helped her into a chair and pulled one up for himself, "I've got news that you probably won't be partial to, but I know you're going to need to hear this."

Amelia nodded, folding her arms over her lap, "I'm ready."

Haytham took a deep breath and launched into his tale. He told her about Theo's last words. How her mother had been killed over jealousy and how James, Theo's father, had sent Theo to do his dirty work.

Amelia was stunned. She suddenly regretted being satisfied that he'd been killed. Now she doubted everything she'd ever believed about him. Was he really the bad guy, or was James really the one to blame? She looked at the floor, unable to speak. Haytham was unsure what was going through her mind, "Are you alright?"

Amelia looked up at him and nodded, "I'm fine, just surprised." She gave him a tiny smile to reassure him.

For the next month or so, Amelia was a giant ball of hormones. One minute she was fine, the next she was in a rage over something ridiculous. She had sudden bursts of energy and would clean the cabin until it was spotless. She would clam she was feeling better than she had in a while.

The week her baby was due she would cry out in pain from the braxton hicks contractions, worrying that she was going into labor. Her midwife would assure her that she wasn't giving birth just yet and the contractions were just her uterus's way of preparing for the delivery. When the real contractions started, she instantly knew they were different and that she really was going into labor.

It was a streneous and extremely painful process. Haytham stood outside, at Amelia's insistance, claiming she didn't want him to see her in such a state, sweating and screaming and bleeding. He paced back and forth, chewed his nails, and wrung his hands with worry. He had never felt more useless in his life.

Finally, about six and a half hours later, Aileen the midwife poked her head outside and ushered Haytham back inside, "It's finished, now." He eagerly strode inside and made his way into the bedroom. Amelia looked up at his arrival, a smile on her tired face.

Bundled up in her arms in a little pink blanket was a tiny form with a thin mess of blonde curls on its head and when his newborn child looked up at him, thumb in its mouth, his breath caught, "Say hello to little Dana Kenway." Amelia held out the small bundle and he gently took his daughter into his arms. Her eyes were an exact mirror of his own. Those blue-grey eyes looked up at him inquiringly.

"She's gorgeous." He breathed. Amelia lay her head back and closed her eyes. She was exhausted and she knew she could trust Haytham with the child. He was the father, after all. She drifted off into the first peaceful sleep she'd had in a long while.

* * *

Time passed quickly after that. Amelia remembered the day she held Dana as a newborn and now she was turning four and looking every bit like herself. There was also no doubt that she was Haytham's child. She was arrogant and defiant and she was already practicing swordsmanship with any sharp object she could find. Amelia distinctly remembered the day she was hanging up laundry and Dana came charging at her from behind, driving the pointed stick into her backside. After that, Haytham had started taking her out to practice, perfecting her already great skills.

It was late August when Amelia decided to get back into shape. She stood in front of a pouting seven year old who glared up at her through thick lashes, "But I'm old enough to look after myself!" She stamped her foot and her pompous english accent, inherited from her father, rose a few octaves.

Amelia cupped her face in both hands and pressed her lips firmly on the porcelain skin of her daughter's forehead. She reminded Amelia of a glass doll; pale and fragile. Although if Dana were to be called such a thing, she'd go in a rage. She was nowhere near fragile, "Behave for Aileen, will you?"

Dana sighed and rolled her eyes, "Yes, mother." She nodded her head, blonde curls bobbing with the motion.

Amelia set off on the white mare she'd bought some time ago. She patted her muzzle affectionately before climbing astride the massive beast. The mare tossed her mane and whinnied. Amelia leaned over and whispered into the horse's ear, "I've missed you, girl."

The clearing where she'd spent time practicing with her father was still there. It was a tiny open space just inside the frontier in a forest where the local saw mill workers would come to gather supplies. They had thinned the forest considerably since she'd last been there, but they'd kept true to their words and hadn't destroyed the practice dummies stationed randomly in the ring of trees.

She sighed with relief. She was worried that they wouldn't be there. She strode up to the nearest dummy and pulled out her daggar. She positioned herself defensively in front of it, knees bent partially, weapon held firmly in front of her, poised to strike. She could see the faint scratchings cutting across the fabric from when she'd practiced as a little girl.

She took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. She repeated this several times to help prepare herself. Her father had always taught her that breathing excersizes helped to oxygenate your brain so you could think clearly and stay focused.

She heard his soft raspy voice in the back of her mind, _"Always take the time to breathe before a battle. It helps ready you to make quick decisions should the need arise. Clear your mind of all thoughts and make sure your eyes never stray from your opponent. Even the smallest distraction could cost you your life."_

Amelia spent the next several hours hacking and slashing at the immobile dummies, alternating the knife between hands so as not to tire her arms. By the time the sun had begun setting she was covered in perspiration and was breathing wildly. She would definitley have to come back regularly if she wanted to get back into shape. This thought occured to her as she sheathed her daggar. She suddenly felt a rush of air and heard something whirring inches past her face. The knife imbedded itself into the dummy's chest, nearly cutting off her ear.

She turned to find a tall figure emerging from the shadows to stride confidently into the clearing. He stopped short and Amelia took a pace back, withdrawing her daggar again, "Lee. I always knew it'd come down to this." He wore a black knee length coat a brown waistcoat with brass buttons, brown trousers, and a simple white shirt.

Charles Lee smirked and reached into his coat to pull out a pistol. He pointed the barrel at her and shrugged his shoulders, "Then there's no need for me to explain how I've hated you from the moment you waltzed into Haytham's life." Amelia took a step back, realizing she was outmatched. There was no way she'd get to him in time. As soon as she tried to make her move, he'd shoot her down in an instant, "You're reckless, a bad influence, ignorant, and I honestly can't understand what Haytham sees in you."

Amelia glanced to her left and noticed a deeply rooted tree within arm's length. If she was quick enough, she could climb up it and free run through the trees into safety. She had to admit that she'd never done it before, but if it could save her life, it was worth a shot.

She looked back at him. She'd processed all that in a matter of seconds but it was enough time for Lee to pull the trigger. Amelia heard the loud bang and saw the smoke trailing out of the muzzle of the gun. She dove for the tree just in time and started crawling up it when she heard the bullet ricochet off the tree trunk and felt the leaves and branches trembling with the force. She slid down a few inches but recovered and started pulling herself up again. Lee was busy shoving gun powder into the pistol, reloading it. Amelia had gotten as far up the tree as she could get and was about to leap onto the branch of the next tree. Lee had reloaded and saw Amelia preparing to jump. He aimed carefully and waited until she was midair to pull the trigger. Amelia's heart dropped as she felt the searing pain of the bullet grazing past her bare arm. She cried out in agony and dropped to the ground in a heap. The last thing she saw was Lee's wicked grin hovering above her before everything went dark.


	12. Chapter 12

It hurt. Her head was pounding and she felt a burning sensation in her upper arm. She didn't know why. Amelia groaned and blinked her eyes open. Everything was pitch black. She wasn't even sure if her eyes were open. She tried sitting upright but was cut off by something binding her hands behind her back. She sighed and threw her head back rather forcefully, "OUCH!" She squealed, the back of her head connecting painfully with hardwood flooring.

A sliver of light shone on her and she realized someone had entered. With a slight clicking sound, the room was flooded with flourescent lighting. Charles Lee stood several feet in front of her, a lit lantern dangling from his fingers, a smug grin on his face. At first she was surprised to see him, then the events of the previous day came flooding back. She gritted her teeth and tried wiggling free of her shackles so she could lash out at him.

Lee waggled a finger, setting the lantern down, "Ah, ah. That wouldn't be very wise. You're in no position to retaliate so I suggest you behave." He leaned down close to her, his breath hot on her face, "That is, if you want to live." He smiled maliciously and chuckled.

Amelia settled back and decided he was right. There was no use in trying to escape. Besides, what would she do if she managed to free herself, run away? She was outmatched, even if Lee was unarmed. He probably had superior hand to hand combat skills. She had none.

"What the hell do you want from me?" She snarled, glaring up at him as he stood and grabbed the lantern he'd brough in with him.

"Isn't it obvious? I want you out of the way..." He walked over to a secluded corner in the room and she watched him as he picked up a sharp object. She saw the glint of steel in the light and her heart stuttered.

Was he going to stab her and leave her to die?

She tried to hide the hair-raising fear she felt. Her stomach churned at the possibility of torture and not being able to see the bright, smiling face of her daughter anymore. She wasn't ready to embrace death. Not yet. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, "Why? You've got the Apple of Eden. What else is there you could want?" She involuntarily scooted several inches away as he approached with the weapon she'd seen him handling.

"You're an annoyance and your presence has softened the Grandmaster. He's just not the same anymore." He tossed the light saber onto the ground close to her. She saw him messing with a jangle of keys and, finding the one he wanted, he leaned down to release her. He nudged the sword closer to her with the toe of his boot and she hesitantly reached for it. She was skeptical about this.

He unsheathed his own sword and looked back at her, expecting her to follow. He doused the lamp before shutting the door. They emerged into a narrow hallway. Amelia glanced around. The place was nothing special. The corridor opened up into a wider space, sparsely furnished with a raggedy couch and a chair or two. There was a poorly buily fireplace off in one corner and the fire looked to be dying.

Lee led her outside into a small clearing surronded by trees. She doubted anyone would be able to hear her if she screamed. Sensing her thoughts, Lee chuckled, the action devoid of humor.

"No one will hear you, so don't even think about screaming for help."

She held her head high and gripped the saber fiercly, her knuckles turning white with the force. Lee held his sword firmly and unwaveringly. His eyes never strayed from hers as he wove the sharp weapon around in expert loops and overhead cuts. He grinned mischeviously, "Since you're a woman, and as I assume you've already suspected, I'm going to give you a fighting chance. We fight until only one is left standing. No restrictions." Amelia nodded. She knew she didn't have skills in this area of expertise, the saber longer and leaner than what she was used to. She figured she had at least a slight chance if she played her cards right. Amelia took a deep breath, raised her sword higher and waited for Lee to make the first strike.

* * *

Haytham wiped the crimson liquid staining his blade off on his sleeve. There were a few splotches of vibrant red on his face from when his target had decided to struggle and lash out at him. Haytham adjusted his cuffs, admitting, "He'd almost gotten the best of me." It had been a while since his last assassination.

Time had gone by too quickly in his opinion. His daughter was already about to enter her eighth year of life. He remembered when he'd made the drastic decision to save Amelia with the apple. Although he really hadn't been extremely close with her, he did enjoy her and soon found he could probably bring himself to love her. Yes, they had conceived a child together, but that didn't necessarily entitle him to love her.

He walked into a silent house. It was nearly dark and he found it strange. Normally Amelia and Dana were up and about, bonding like he assumed mothers and daughters did. Then they would cram into the kitchen to fix supper. He checked Dana's room and found Aileen, the midwife who they sometimes hired as a sitter, tucking his daughter into bed. Aileen turned as he entered and put a plump finger up to her lips to silence him. She shut the door behind her and they moved away from her door so as not to disturb the sleeping child.

"Where is Amelia?" Haytham whispered rather harshly.

Aileen stared at him quietly before answering, "She's gone out. She left yesterday morning but hasn't been back since. I'm a little worried." The older woman's voice was gentle.

Haytham pondered her statement, "Not since yesterday morning, eh?"

Aileen nodded, placing a thick hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure everything is fine." She consoled, trying to keep him from becoming too overworked. Although there was a small doubt nagging at the back of her mind that told her all was not well with the young Mistress.

* * *

Amelia took a few paces backwards as Lee advanced, taking no caution to keep his guard up, strolling to her casually. He was overconfident. Amelia filed that into the back of her mind, hoping it would turn out to be used to her advantage. He brought his sword up, ready to bring it down on her head. She hastily brough up her own sword just in time. She felt her arms tremble wit the force of his blow. She was lucky that time. She doubted she'd be so lucky the next time.

Amelia knew her grip was wavering. She couldn't hold up her arms much longer and she could feel her biceps and forearms quivering, where most of her strength was coming from. Putting all she could into it, Amelia flug her foot at Lee's groin. He caught the slight flicker of movement in his peripheral and backed away just in time. He grinned and swung his arm around to try and catch her in her exposed side. She danced out of reach.

"You're not very skilled at this. I predict you'll drop dead in the matter of a few minutes." He charged forward and swung at her again. The edge of the blade nicked her in the same arm he'd shot her and she gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to cry out. She chanced a quick glance but had to look away. The underlying layer of skin shone bright red against her pale complexion and lay exposed. The edges of her wound were blackened with gunpowder and she could see the rivulets of dried blood that had trickled down her arm from when the wound was fresh and bleeding. The new cut was close enough to sting the larger gash but other than that, it had no effect.

Lee shot forward like a striking snake, his aim lowered, and the blade cut into the skin of her thigh, ripping open her trousers. She did cry out this time, this cut being deeper than the first. Her saber dropped from her hands, landing harmlessly at her feet. Lee advanced again and kicked his feet out, catching her heel and causing her to fall on her back. He stood over her, boot planted painfully on her right breast. She grimaced and tried to slide her hand into her boot.

The point of Lee's sword pressed lightly against the hollow of her throat, "It's all over for you." He pulled his sword up again, preparing to drive it into her chest when her hand shot out and something sharp dug into his calf. He looked down to see her daggar embedded into his leg, "What? How did-"

Amelia grinned, "Guess you didn't check my boots."

He staggered back a few paces and Amelia tripped him from her position below before he could wander too far out of her reach. He fell to the ground and Amelia hurriedly crawled over him before he regained his senses. Not hesitating, for fear he'd jump up and end her life, she picked up the saber and drove its point into his chest. He made a few harmless gurgling sounds before blood spilled out of his mouth and his eyes glazed over, staring up blankly. She sighed and fell back on her haunches. She left the saber where it was and stared at his limp form, lying unmoving at her feet. He'd been too cocky for his own good. He shouldn't have gloated and given her the chance to strike back. She stood up and kicked his lifeless body to make sure the deed was done. She picked up her knife and stuck it back into the holster strapped to her ankle inside her boot, "I did it..." She said it slowly, testing out the words on her tongue, seeing how victory tasted, "I killed him." It didn't sound as satisfying as she'd imagined, but at least she was alive.

* * *

Haytham sprinted through the familiar area. He figured he'd try asking Lee if he'd seen Amelia. Lee was his trusted colleague and had no reason to lie to him. Their hideout was in a secluded corner of the woods and as he burst through the clearing, taking in the sight of a battered Amelia standing over a still form on the ground, he stopped.

"Lee?" He hesitantly took a step forward, not wanting to believe it when he saw the familiar brown coat, black boots, and slicked back hair tied at the base of the man's neck.

He bent on one knee to examine the sword protruding from Lee's chest and the blood that had soaked through his clothes as he'd bled out. He pulled the point of the saber out of the man's body and tossed it aside. He really wanted to grieve over his fallen friend, but he had no time for it. He glanced up at Amelia who stood rigid, fists clenched at her side. Her nails dug painfully into her palms, causing a piercing sensation but she was numb to the feeling. She was afraid, having been moments from death.

Haytham stood up and wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her in a warm embrace. She was afraid to put her arms around him, afraid he was just an illusion and she was imagining it all. She hesitantly reached up and gripped the back of his cape, burying her face into his chest. She didn't cry. She didn't have the energy to muster up the tears to do so. Her voice came out as a hoarse croak as she explained, "He shot me. He kidnapped me and wanted to kill me." Haytham smoothed down her hair which had grown considerably since she'd cut it.

"It's alright. He's gone now." Haytham glanced behind him at his comrade. Lee had been the man who Haytham had once hoped would bring order and peace to this forsaken country. To replace the poorly organized George Washington who knew absolutely nothing about milita and running a country. Although he was sad about Lee's death, he was glad Amelia had come out of their scuffle with only a few cuts and bruises.

They walked home, arm in arm, enjoying the slight breeze tickling their skin and the gorgeous setting sun, the soft pinks and oranges dancing on the horizon. Amelia had calmed herself and was counting her blessings, thankful to whoever was watching over her for saving her. Was it a mere stroke of luck or did she actually have some tactical skill when it came to fighting? She was able to size up her enemy and realize his overconfidence would be his downfall. It wasn't really much, but it was a start. Maybe with vigirous training and dedication she could learn to become a fighter but, as for now, she was done with all that nonsense. It tired her out.

* * *

**I've been trying to coax myself into writing longer chapters. They seem so short to me. Anyways... My story's drawing to a close. I'm trying to draw it out for as long as possible but I've only got a few more scenarios popping into my head. Maybe if inspiration strikes, I'll be able to extend it further. **

**Well, keep reading! I know not many people out there read this poor excuse for a fanfic (haha), but to those of you that do, I really appreciate it! **


	13. Chapter 13

It was mid July. The hot summer sun pounded harshly against Amelia's bare shoulders as she splashed about in the cool water with a thirteen year old Dana. Her blonde curls were pulled up into pig tails, making her appear more childish. Her blue-grey eyes shone brilliantly and she squinted against the sun, "Look, mom!" She'd adopted the more mature name recently, rather than "mama". Although both terms were endearing, Amelia felt that it only proved she was growing up faster than she'd have liked. Amelia turned her head to stare into the sky where Dana had pointed. Following her finger, she saw the faint outlines of a bird flapping around in the distance.

Amelia giggled, "It's just a bird." Even before she'd finished, Dana was already shaking her head, pigtails whirling about.

"No, mom, it's a hawk!" Dana flung her hands into the water, splashing her mother with the cold water, making her recoil.

"You can tell what it is from here?" Amelia shaded her eyes from the blinding rays of the sun with her hand and looked up at the bird again. From where she stood, she could just barely recognize that it was a bird, let alone what breed it was.

Amelia suddenly remembered some distant memory, from when she and Haytham had first started their missions together.

_"Eagle vision?"_

_Haytham had nodded, "It helps to pick out your target in a crowd, survey your surroundings from a high vantage point. It helps you see clearer and farther away. It's like you're seeing through the eyes of a bird, like the name suggests." He'd added the last tidbit with his usual sarcasm._

She didn't doubt Dana posessed such a talent. She was Haytham's daughter, after all. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Would Haytham want their daughter to follow in his footsteps? Risking her life on a daily basis just to maintain order and direction, things he sought to keep in balance?

She didn't want to dwell on such melancholy thoughts and instead focused on splashing about in the frigid water in the hot sun with Dana, enjoying her youth while it lasted.

* * *

On that fateful day, Haytham and Amelia had gone out to fetch some supplies. They strolled leisurely through the town square, perusing the wares of street vendors. They sampled fruits and vegetables, checking for ripeness and bruises on things such as apples, bananas and oranges.

Basket full of food and spices, they headed home a little before noon. Arm in arm, they strode into the cabin, fully prepared to dismiss Aileen when the scene displayed before them made them stop in their tracks. Amelia's heart leapt into her throat and she rushed forward, the basket falling from her grasp. Aileen lay face down in the center of the room, chairs and tables upturned and strewn around carelessly, some furnishings even broken. Amelia turned Aileen over onto her back and gasped, crawling away in fear. Aileen's throat was in shreds, evidence of her struggle to her last gurgling breaths. Blood pooled around the folds of her neck, as she was a rather plump woman, and it spattered her apron and dull gray dress. Her blue eyes gazed heavenwards, unblinking, glazed over with fear in her last moments.

A startled cry escaped Amelia and she scrambled to her feet, rushing into Dana's room. It was empty. Her room seemed undisturbed, in a much more orderly fashion than the intruder had left the living room. There was a yellowed piece of parchment lying on Dana's pillow. Gingerly, Amelia picked it up and tried to decipher the hurried scrawl written across it. Gasping, she hurried back to Haytham who stood frozen at the door where she'd left him. She handed him the paper and he came to, grabbing it from her with a shaky hand.

Tears had sprung to her eyes and now they spilled over freely. She balled up her fist and pressed it firmly against her mouth to quiet her sobbing. Haytham read the note aloud, his voice strong and steady, despite his current distress over his missing daughter, "An eye for an eye, or so the saying goes," Haytham paused and raised a brow but continued on, "A life for a life. You've killed my son, so I've come for your daughter." The message was brief and underneath it there was a date, time and place. "He wants us to meet him in Lexington next week at three in the afternoon."

Amelia choked back a sob, "What does he want?"

Haytham's expression was grim, his voice solemn, "He'll spare Dana in exchange for either of us."

"He wants one of us as a hostage?" She asked, not comprehending.

Haytham's face was ashen with grief, "I'm afraid not."

* * *

Time had not been forgiving to James. His face was heavily lined, his posture stooped, his beard and hair nearly as white as snow. His eyes were hazy, unsure of his motives. Why was he doing this, he'd ask himself. For revenge. Someone had to pay for his suffering and who better than Amelia Kates herself.

Haytham, followed by a hesitant Amelia, strode into Lexington. They were afraid they wouldn't be able to find him, but as is turned out, he found them. James was concealed in an alleyway and noticed their familiar figures as they passed. His arm, surprisingly strong in his weakened state, shot out and grabbed Amelia's skirts. She cried out and turned to smack the perpetrator when she realized who it was. They hastily followed after James, down winding alleys, behind houses, and they occasionally had to hide in stacks of hay to avoid drawing the attention of the guards. They even climbed ladders and took to the roofs prevent detection.

After what seemed like forever, they entered an ugly little dilapidated, isolated shack. It was declining severely, shingles falling off the roof, the door barely hanging on its hinges, all the windows were busted open. And it looked even worse on the inside. Amelia clung to Haytham, nose wrinkling with disgust at all the rotting food, papers, and dead rats littering the floors.

James's voice was scratchy and hoarse, as if he'd been yelling, "Didn't think you'd come." He grunted.

"Why wouldn't we?" Amelia snapped, "It's our daughter you have. Of course we'd come to get her."

James allowed himself a small smile, his thin lips spreading over yellowed, decaying teeth, "Some people aren't too keen on sacrifices."

Amelia ignored him and whispered to Haytham, "What are we going to do?"

Haytham leaned down and lowered his voice so only Amelia could hear, "We wait for an opportunity to strike." He stated matter-of-factly, as if it should be obvious.

James led them through the house and into a dark room at the very back. He opened the door and produced a lantern, lighting it and leading them inside. It was musty and the air was stale. Amelia's chest heaved with the effort of breathing in the foul air. When they got further into the room, Amelia noticed the trembling figure lying in a fetal position on a flimsy mattress. Amelia tried lunging forward, towards her shaking daughter, but James caught her and she struggled against him, hot tears trailing down her cheeks, "Let me go! I want my baby girl!" She screeched, causing the form on the mattress to glance up curiously.

Dana's eyes were wide with fear and recognition, "Mommy?" She called out. Amelia's heart dropped into her stomach at the sound of her daughter's terrified voice. It had been years since she'd talked to her mother like that. Tears spilled freely down Dana's cheeks, smeared with dirt.

"You know what I want." He grinned evilly and Amelia's upper lip curled in distaste. Her hatred for this man was growing by the second.

He pulled out a knife he had concealed in his coat and pressed it against her side. Strangely, she wasn't afraid of dying, "I don't care what you do to me, just let her go, first." She said darkly, town lowered menacingly, "If you go back on your word," She paused dramatically, "If you touch one hair on her head or I find out you already have, I'll cut open your stomach, rip out your entrails, and then proceed to shove them back inside you through your asshole." James nodded his consent, undoubtedly aware she'd keep true to her word.

Haytham was baffled. Although Amelia had lowered her voice considerably, he was still able to hear all that she'd said and it surprised him. Never before had he seen such a side of her. It was profoundly explicit. He strode forward and picked up Dana. She instantly jumped into his arms and snuggled up against his chest, fearful that if she didn't, the bad man would get her.

The next few seconds seem to slow down and drag out. Suddenly, James struck out, knife slashing against the side he had it resting against. Amelia cried out, clutching her side painfully. She lifted her hand off the wound and found her palm soaked with blood. She glanced up to see that James was about to bring the knife down on her chest, stopping her heart, ending her life. She brought up her arm feebly in a desperate attempt to deflect the sharp daggar. She skewed her eyes shut and braced for her final breaths. After a few moments, nothing came. She opened her eyes to find that Haytham was standing in front of her protectively. Panicked, she glanced around to see that Dana was safely tucked away in the corner, away from all the fighting. She sighed with relief but then remembered something; Haytham.

He had drawn his sword and had deflected the tiny daggar from cutting into Amelia again. Amelia scrambled to her feet, removing her own weapon from her boot. She tried calling out to Haytham to let him know she could help but when he glanced back at her, James siezed the moment and used it to his advantage. With Haytham distracted, James was able to knock the sword out of Haytham's hands and he advanced, crooked, ugly teeth bared, his knife getting dangerously close to Haytham's heart.

Unawares, Haytham tripped over something on the ground and James had him pinned. He tried to press the knife to his exposed neck, but Haytham had his wrist ensnared easily, preventing him from delivering the killing blow.

Feeling useless, Amelia decided to take action. She leapt onto James's back and thrashed, throwing her fists around blindly. She felt her knuckles connect with the back of his skull and his spine on several occasions. He groaned and threw her off.

It was too late.

He'd already overpowered Haytham and driven his knife into the man's chest.

A heart-wrenching scream was torn from Amelia's lungs, her face contorting in agony. She knelt by Haytham, who was just barely breathing. She stroked his cheek, tears spilling over and dripping onto his face, "You're going to be okay," She soothed, glancing at the knife's position on his body, protruding crudely from his chest, "He just narrowly missed your heart." She comforted him, unsure if she were trying to reassure Haytham or herself.

Haytham cleared his throat, grimacing at the effort it took, "I've never told you." He clenched his teeth, speaking in ragged breaths, "But, I..." His eyes shone up at her, intense, unwavering, and caring, "I love you, Amelia." She put a finger to his lips and shushed him.

"I know." She smiled gently, "Save your strength, you'll be alright."

She turned to find James trying to slip sneakily out the back door. She rose, grabbed Haytham's saber, and strode forward, determination and anger written all over her features.

He tried scrambling outside but didn't get very far before Amelia had him by the scruff of his neck. She held onto his collar firmly and held up the sword, pressing the pointed tip into the side of his neck.

"I won't even allow you any last words," She snarled, pressing the blade deeper into his skin, drawing blood, "You've had my mother killed, you nearly killed the man I love, and you took my daughter. I hope you burn in the deepest, darkest pits of Hades." He squirmed under her grasp, crying out in pain as the sword cut into his flesh slowly. Amelia dragged it out as long as possible before she decided she was done toying with him.

She drove the point of the sword all the way through to the other side of his neck, decapitating him. His headless body collapsed and she dropped the scarlet stained sword next to it.

* * *

Dana peeked her head into the living room where Amelia was laughing, having an animated conversation. She stopped to listen to her mother, "She's gotten so mature. She's nearly twenty now." Amelia sighed contentedly and leaned back into her chair, "I remember when she was just a little girl, nearly as tall as my knees." She smiled fondly, remembering her youth.

Dana decided she'd intervene and strode calmly up to her mother, "Mom, it's time for your bath."

Amelia squinted up at her and a deep frown formed on her face. She gestured at the empty chair across from her, "I'm talking to Haytham, can't it wait?"

Dana sighed. She hated seeing her mother so broken; living in the past, "Mom, dad's dead. He's been dead since I was thirteen."

Amelia shook her head and gestured again at the empty chair, "You'd do well to hold your tongue. Lying gets you nowhere."

Dana tried appeasing her, letting her live in a fantasy, "Alright mom, you can talk to dad after your bath."

Amelia, satisfied, nodded and allowed herself to be hefted out of her chair and led to the wash bin. As Dana helped her mother undress, she was suddenly overcome with sadness, tears springing to her eyes. Why did fate have to rear its ugly little head that day? True, James had missed Haytham's heart with his dagger, but he didn't survive. It was too late when they dragged him to the nearest doctor. Dana remembered with perfect clarity the look on her mother's face when the doctor told her he hadn't survived. She didn't understand it. She didn't want to believe it. She started thrashing around and tried hitting the doctor, screaming at him, telling him he was lying.

Amelia looked up at her daughter after she was settled into the tub. She noticed the tears trailing down her cheeks and she reached up, wiping them away with her thumb, "Don't cry." Tears were rolling down her own cheeks now, "It'll be okay." And despite the fact that Amelia was still mentally unstable, Dana could have sworn that she saw understanding in her eyes, like she knew he wasn't alive anymore.

* * *

**I hope nobody hates me, but... I've lost all inspiration for this story and don't have any more ideas so I'm forced to end it here. I hate to, but I don't have anything else I can write about. I guess I could write about how Dana grows up to follow in her father's foot steps but to me that would be too mediocre. I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted! ~**


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